


Black & White

by Alisha7824



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Cute Harry, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Weasley Family (Harry Potter), I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Summaries, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Muggle friendship, Oblivious Albus Dumbledore, Plagiarism, Possibly Unrequited Love, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Shh, Sickly!Remus Lupin, Surprise Pairing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:52:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15978338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisha7824/pseuds/Alisha7824
Summary: Post OOTPBlaming himself for his godfathers death, Harry decides he wants to die too. But, miraculously, a little bit of hope shines through the dark clouds that is his life and opens him up to emotions he thought long gone.++Harry finds/adopts a baby fic cause I believe the world needs more of them++Edit: I changed the summary a little bit the story is the sameWill follow HBP





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

 

The chilly air wasn't enough to deter the young man when he decided to go on a mid morning stroll by the river to clear his head. Rather short in stature with wild ebony hair and such delicate facial features, this teenager could have easily been mistaken as a young woman if one did not know him personally. His red full lips puffed steam into the frigid morning air and steaming up his coke bottle glasses as he walked, with the gentle breeze reddening soft cheeks and brushing jet hair from his forehead; revealing a curiously shaped scar.

Harry Potter walked briskly along the biker path, his mind miles away. He had only just returned from another disastrous year at Hogwarts, with this year at the top of his most hated; arguably taking first and bumping his fourth year to second. After the Battle at the Ministry Harry had spent his last remaining days at school in a daze. With Sirius dead, Harry's health had taken a dramatic turn. He had stopped eating and wouldn't respond when talked to. His sleep had been filled with dreams of Sirius falling through the Veil, his grey eyes accusatory; as if to say, 'This was your fault. YOU made this happen.' It wasn't till about a week into his depression when he forcibly yanked out of his daze by Snape, who had told him to stop feeling sorry for himself and get over it. That had put him in a rage bigger than what he felt in the Headmaster's office when he was told about the prophecy. But when he had finally calmed down enough to think he had realized that that was the first feeling besides guilt and self loathing he had felt for almost a whole week.

After that, he had begun to eat and speak again, putting on a brave face for his friends and teachers as he went on his day to day business.

After he returned to Privet Drive he retreated to his room, where he spent the rest of his 'coming home' alone, mourning the death of the only father figure he had ever had.

Now a days, he's spent his entire day locked in his rooms avoiding his relatives (who were just as keen to avoid him back) and doing his summer homework. When he wasn't doing homework he was reading Dudley's old books; the covers never having been cracked, they were were in perfect condition. When he had finished all of that, he had searched desperately for something else to do do; anything to keep his mind off Sirius.

Then he got the most perfect idea.

He was very well aware Dumbledore had placed guards outside Number Four and had taken it upon himself to learn just who it was that were guarding him and learned their shifts. Now, every Sunday afternoons and Thursday evenings he can sneek out his window (using his invisibility cloak) and down the white ivy covered wall and sneak off to the park.

Which is how he had found himself wrapped in his Gryffindor scarf and Weasley sweater, hands buried deep inside his pockets as he walked beside the gurgling river, bright green eyes hazed over in deep thought.

It was his fault Sirius died. He was the reason his friends had been captured and hurt. If he had only tried harder in his Occlumency 0lessons or had checked in with Sirius to make sure- Harry's foot steps faltered. Harry's breathing had become irregular as he fought back his tears and guilt.

If only he had not been blinded by his own bravery and foolishness, Sirius would still be alive. And with this thought his strength crumbled and he fell to the pavement, his body racked with harsh sobs as he let out his pain and anguish. With his face buried in his hands, glasses askew and pressed to the ground, his form shaking from grief and cold the boy looked utterly miserable. After a good thirty minutes his sobs began to lessen till he could only hiccup and gasp as he finally got himself under control that he could stand on shaky legs. The sun had begun to creep into the sky once again, turning the sky a pale blue. He could hear birds singing over the rolling and bubbling river as they go about their morning.

But none of it registers to the boy as he stared up at the morning sky. Maybe... things would be better?- maybe if he disappeared.... if he just... Harry's dull gaze slipped over to the river. A grim smile slid over his lips. It'd be for the best. If he were to just disappear than he would never put his friends in danger again. He could see Sirius again, as well as Cedric.... And he could finally meet his parents. Maybe he could get stuck in the river long enough for people to not be able to recognize him, then Voldemort would forever wonder what had happened to the 'Great Harry Potter'. Maybe if he was unlucky enough, he would come back as a ghost. Then he would haunt him for the rest of his miserable life.

The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him more and more. Barely aware of what he was doing, Harry stepped off the trail and walked over to the safety guard, placing his hands on the freezing, rusty bar. His mind was swimming with the possibilities his death would bring. The Order would no longer have to babysit him; his friend's would (hopefully) become less of a target for Death Eater attacks; he would never get the chance to become a murderer like the prophecy had predicted; Voldemort would never get the pleasure of murdering the one Fated to defeat him. Harry giggled at the thought. He leaned a little over the rail, his legs little more than a few inches off the ground.

But then Voldemort would have the world.

It would no longer be any concern of mine.

He will slaughter everyone who'll go against him.

So? Death is inevitable. They were gonna die later on anyways.

Are you okay with letting millions of innocent people die?

This made him pause.

... no... No I'm not.

So why are you abandoning them?

I'm not abandoning them!

Your dangling head first over a safety rail. If you lean a bit further you'd fall head long into the water.

...

So... why are you?

... I guess... because.... Why was he doing it?

Realization hit him and with a startled cry he threw himself away from the rail and fell on his bottom. Just what in the name of Merlin was he thinking?! All of a sudden a wave of nausea hit him.

Sweet Merlin, he had almost killed himself!

His eyes widened and his breath came in short gasps. He had almost thrown his life away. As if it meant nothing. As if his parents sacrifice had meant nothing. All because he had wanted to be selfish. So he didn't have to face his guilt and pain everytime someone died for him.

He thought of his friends. About how devastated and horrified they'd have been if he'd died... Sweet Merlin... Remus had already lost his friends. Losing Harry, the last connection he had to James and Lily....

Harry buried his face in his hands once again. He didn't cry. He had run out of tears. So he remained silent as he regained his ability to breathe, his heart racing a mile a minute. THe sounds of the river mingled with the blood rushing through his ears barely picked up the soft sneeze that came from his left. Harry jerked up right, looking for the source. Finding nothing, Harry decided he was still shaken from earlier and decided he should head back.

*aachoo!*

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Now he KNEW he had heard someone. The trail was still kind of dark with sun light filtering in through the thick canopy in some spots. But even so, Harry could not see a single soul on, or off the path.

*cough cough achooo!*

Previous trauma pushed to the side, Harry peered around the railing. He could not see anyone.

"Hello?" Harry called out.

Silence. Harry tried again.

Again, silence. Furrowing his brow Harry looked up and down the river bed, thinking he may have missed something. Other than floating litter and a half empty milk crate Harry could see noth-

The milk crate moved.

No. Wait. There something inside the milk crate. A cat? It moved again; little movements that disturbed the white covering. Could be a cat. Harry was undecided whether he should retrieve the thing when-

"Waaaaaaaahh!"

Oh, sweet Circe, no.

Adrenalin shot through his whole body as leaped over the rail -careful not to let go of it as he gently slid down the muddy river wall. Now about a foot away from the sloshing water Harry turned to where he last saw the crate.

It had miraculously caught on some dead branches but said branches were too thin to hold it for long. Harry dug the toes of his shoes into the side as he side walked in the crates direction. The sewage smell almost had him convulse but he pushed on. HArry had nearly slipped, sending his foot into icy waters bellow, but that did not deter him as he finally reached the crate. 

Being almost a foot above the crate Harry caught a breif glance at the small, scrunched and almost blue face of an infant before the twigs keeping the crate in place began to slide. The baby's cries tore at his heart as he quickly reached out with his icy foot to grab it; missing it by a couple inches Harry shushed to terrified babe.

"Shhhhh, shush shush. It'll be alright baby. I'll get you out," Harry's less then calm voice only made the sick child cry harder, hacking and coughing in between wails. Harry sidles over again as the crate slowly became loosened from the river side. Harry reached out blindly with his foot, praying to every deity that he wouldn't miss. Desperate green eyes looked back, hoping with all hope he had succeeded.

The crate was hooked at the very tip of his trainer; the rubber on the tip, peeling as it was, actually managed to hook onto the side of the crate. Sighing in relief Harry carefully and slowly pulled the crate closer to him. When it bumped against the muddy wall Harry slowly reached down with one hand to grab at it. He had a brief scare when the hand holding the rail slipped, but he managed to grab at the bar in time. He quickly went back to the task at hand When the child's screams became more frantic. Harry's already pale face drained of all color when he noticed the crate had been filled with water.

"Shit!" Harry reached down, trying desperately to grab at the crate but coming up a few inches short. Meanwhile, the babes screams turned into even more coughing and hacking. Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn;t reach the crate and their was no way he could jump into the water without the river carrying him under. Harry grabbed at the muddy wall, searching for a sturdy rock he can hold onto; SOMETHING that could help! It took him a little while but in all his digging and rooting he managed to find a sturdy tree root. 

With no time to celebrate Harry grabbed hold of firmly and let go of the rail. Finding that, indeed the tree ro was sturdy enough, Harry leaned down and grabbed the half filled crate. The sick infant inside coughed and shivers as Harry -with some difficulty- lifted it over his head and under the Guard Rail. Sighing in relief Harry had only just managed to grab the bottom bar before his 'sturdy' tree root came out in his hand. THe tree root was rather unimpressive, being no thicker than his thumb and slick with mud. He was briefly surprised that it had held him so long.

He shook his head slightly against the oddity before he heaves himself up and over the Rail. Panting with exertion Harry quickly grabbed the crate and still screaming babe. He made quick work pulling the soden child from the box, its swaddled dirty blanket soaked with cold river water. He divested the child of its dirty blanket and wrapped his scarf around the small body. Harry then quickly lifts his sweater high enough to stuff the freezing child underneath and against his own body. Harry shivers when their skin meet.

"Shhh, shhhhh. It's okay. You'll be alright. Shhhhhh." Rocking slightly Harry gently ran his hands over the small lump under his shirt, trying to bring warmth into the still shivering baby. The childs screams had dulled into soft whimpers an coughs. Harry moved into the sun, hoping it would help. He continued to shush and reassure it that it was safe and they'd be okay. Harry was concerned when they fell asleep, but was placated when he felt the soft, uneven rise and fall of a tiny chest against his own. He could here watery lungs breathing in and out as continued to rub warmth back into little legs and feet. Harry could feel the morning chill dissipate from the air to be replaced by spring (almost summer) warmth.

This little being couldn't be more than a few days old, Harry thought. The thought that someone had just left their infant in a box and left them for dead sent a wave of nausea and rage through him. If he hadn't had been there when he was... If he hadn't have stopped himself when he did...

Harry's breath hitched. No. That is thought for another day, Harry decided, still swaying and whispering loving words of comfort. He could feel his magic covering the little life he had saved like a blanket.

They need to be fed, but how?! He couldn't just waltz into the Dursley's home with a new born baby and demand milk for it. They'd probably accuse him of abducting the child and have him carted off to jail. Harry snorted at the thought. Maybe he could go out and buy formula? It wasn't a bad idea. He could buy a few containers of powdered formula from the nearest corner store with some of the muggle money he had exchanged from Gringots. But that money could only only help them get by for about a month before he'd run out. He wasn't planning on actually using it at the time, it was just to see if he COULD exchange wizard currency to Muggle. But now that it had a purpose Harry was kind of nervous how he was going to get more.

Harry grabbed his cloak from a hidden niche in an old tree and quickly cover himself with it; keeping it closed with his one hand while he cradled the slumbering child with the other. Harry set off in the direct he came from up the path, with a bounce in his step.

 

*\ (T . T*)

 

Harry stood at the counter, patiently waiting for his purchases to be scanned. The woman had given him a kind look when she had saw just what he was buying but otherwise didn't comment, to his immense relief. When she was done she bagged them and handed them over the counter.

"There you are. And here's your change." Dropping a few coins into his hand along with the receipt.

Harry smiled brightly at the young woman. "Thank you. Have a great day!" Her answering 'You too!' followed him out the door. It was still quite early in the morning and he had at least thirty minutes to hurry back before Fletcher's shift ended. Harry hurried behind the store and wrapped his cloak around himself before he began his short trek 'home'.

The child, he had come to realize was a little girl. She was of oriental heritage and was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. Soft tufts of black fuzz covered the top of her head and she the cutest button nose. Her face was slender, but that was probably to do with malnutrition than anything. She had ten fingers and ten toes, her skin pale, wrinkly and peeling but altogether adorable. She was beautiful and he did not understand why her parents ( or parent) had just abandoned her like that.

Privet Drive was in sight and he picked up his pace; careful not to jostle the baby too much. With Number Four in sight Harry stopped to make sure the cost was clear -Mundungus was still snoring in the neighbor's bush, a bottle of booze clutched tightly to his chest) before he crept silently to the back of the house. He could hear the television going and his Aunt vacuuming an upstairs room. Harry carefully turned the door handle -taking care not to turn too fast- Harry silently crept into the kitchen, his bundle held close to his chest. He was infinitely singing the cashier lady's praises for using the reusable cloth bags. The bag at his side barely make a sound as it brushed against his leg. Double checking that the invisibility cloak covered every inch of him and the bag Harry made his way to the living room, barely glancing at his cousin who was eating his Second Breakfast in front of the television.

Skipping the third step, Harry had made it to the hallway when he froze up.

His aunt Petunia was dusting the picture frames not five feet away from him, humming a tune as she worked. She didn't seem to notice that she wasn't alone so he relaxed slightly, careful not to look at his aunt full on. With his back to the opposite wall, Harry sidles behind her, careful not to brush against her as he slowly crept to his door. Releasing a silent breath he glance behind him to find her still merrily dusting. He waited a few more minutes before she finally finished. Apparently satisfied with her work, she took her supplies and went down the stairs. Harry whispered a soft, 'Finally!' before entering his room.

Glancing at his bedside table, his clock read 7:56 am. It had become habit when he had spent a half of a month learning each Order member's shifts. He had four minutes before Sally Hincklesworth's shift began.

"Alright now, I'm going to set you down now." Harry carefully removed the baby from his sweater; the Gryffindor scarf still wrapped snug around the fragile body. He was quick to rid himself of the sweater before returning the baby to his chest, still unsure about letting the babe away from his body heat. The little girl's small face scrunched up in discomfort and she began to wimper.

"Oh Sweet heart, don't cry." He rocked her gently. Her fussing calmed and she went quiet once more. Grabbing one of the brand new bottles from the bag Harry was silent as he left his room and crept into the bathroom.

Using the tap, he was able to fill the bottle with luke warm water and return to his room with no complications. Digging out out one of the -surprisingly expensive- canisters of formula. Looking over the instructions diligently Harry scooped the proper amount into the bottle. Screwing the lid shut, Harry began to shake it.

Harry soon learned your suppose to cover the nipple to avoid making a mess of your surroundings.

\-----

 

This is my first story. Please let me know what you think of it in the comments below!!

p.s. This story will be a SLASH. I'm not quite sure what the pairing will be yet. Recommendations are welcome.

PEACE


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE
> 
> Using the tap, he was able to fill the bottle with luke warm water and return to his room with no complications. Digging out out one of the -surprisingly expensive- canisters of formula. Looking over the instructions diligently Harry scooped the proper amount into the bottle. Screwing the lid shut, Harry began to shake it.
> 
> Harry soon learned your suppose to cover the nipple to avoid making a mess of your surroundings.

NOW

Harry's surprised yelp when the milk shot straight into his face made the little girl jump violently but, thankfully, didn't cry.

"Son of a-" Harry scrubbed at his face with his thin blanket, his glasses going askew with the movement. Finished, Harry decided he could wait to clean his glasses, which were splattered with sour smelling milk.

"Guess I didn't do it right, huh?" His vision blurry, he glanced at the quiet baby, who's water wrinkled face being the only bit of her that wasn't covered. She squirmed in his arms. " Maybe if I cover the nipple." He mumbled to himself. When Harry's finger covered the tip he cautiously began to shake it. When he wasn't splattered, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. Shaking it with more force Harry then place the tip to the babe's lips. She didn't immediately take it, which further proved his theory that she'd been alone for some time. Harry didn't give up however. He kept the nipple at her lips as he encouraged her to drink. She was stubborn, he'd give her that.

After a few minutes of coaxing she finally began to drink. Greedily taking as much as she could. Paranoid she'd end up choking Harry would take it away every now and then, much to her displeasure.

"It's not going anywhere. You'll get it back again in no time!" Harry quickly returned the almost half empty bottle to the fussing baby. Harry leaned down so that he could see her face a bit better. She was just too cute.

When the bottle was completely empty he set it aside and gently placed the baby over his knee. He didn't quite know what he was doing but he gently began to pat her back; his had cupped just as he had seen other mother's do. He was rewarded a couple pats later by a almighty burp. He was feeling very proud of himself, until he felt the warm wetness spread over his leg. Then he felt sick to his stomach.

"Okay...." Harry's voice trembled as he slowly picked up the now happy baby and gently settled her in a nest of his pillows and sheets. Harry made sure she wasn't able to go anywhere before he practically ripped his pants from his body and threw them to the floor. Grabbing a new -fresh- pair, he quickly changed; all without looking down or even breathing. He made sure the mess was covered before he picked them up by the pads of his fingers and tossed them into his waste bin; tying the bag off then going so far as to rebag it for good measure. With the soiled pants out of sight Harry finally began to breathe again. The faint scent of baby barf still lingered and nearly had him gagging as he returned to his bed.

For as long as he could remember, Harry had never been able to stand the very idea of vomit. The sounds, the smells- all of it made him so uncomfortable that he'd find any reason he could to not even think about it.

He returned his focus back to the yawning baby beside him.

"I can't keep calling you baby', can I?" Harry didn't get a reply, the infant fast asleep. Harry smiled to himself before he rolled over onto his back; taking care not to jostle the bed too much so as to not wake his new charge.

Maybe he could name her 'Angel'? 

No. That wasn't original enough. 

'Cassidy'?

Has a nice ring to it. But he remembered going to primary school with at least four other Cassidy's, some even in the same classes.

No. It's all too common.

Cassiopeia?

That's no good either. Do I want her to be bullied for the rest of her life?

Hmmmmm.

Harry was mulling over all the names he could remember hearing when a sharp rap at the door made him jump nearly out of his skin.

"Get your lazy arse out of bed boy! Your uncle has made a list of chores that he expects to be done by the time he comes home! And if you give me any trouble you will go without meals for a month, do you understand?!"

"Yes aunt Petunia." Harry answered. He heard her muttered 'you had better.' before her footsteps retreated from his door. Harry looked back at the little cherub still asleep beside him. Giving her a fond smile and swiping the fuzz from her forehead Harry retreated from his room, stopping at the bathroom to do his business before going downstairs.

He was as quiet as possible going down the stairs, having learned a long time ago that being too noisy would mean pain, hunger, and a week in his cupboard. Spying Dudley still watching television Harry made his way into the pristine kitchen, where his aunt was currently preparing a roast. As if sensing him, she turn around and leveled him with her best contemptuous glare.

"The list is on the counter." She pointed. Harry followed her boney finger to counter she had mentioned. He grabbed the list (a double sided list of house hold chores that would have taken him a few days to complete) and thanked his aunt. She simply huffed, setting down a plate of stale cheese and bread.

"Clean up after yourself when your done." She sneered before returning to her original task. Harry said nothing more as he ate. When he was finished, he did indeed wash up his plate and place at the table before he headed outside to begin his first chore of the day.

 

....

 

By now Harry's back was aching, having been bent over his aunts garden for an hour weeding and planting. The afternoon was warm enough but a a slight chill, leftover from winter still lingered in the air. He had completed about seven things on the list and yet he still had more to go. Harry, in that time had only managed to check up on the baby once, feeding and changing her in record time before he forced himself to return to his work. The little girl was quiet, and while he worried about that, he couldn't help being silently grateful.

Harry allowed himself a small break. The sun shone on his pale face as he leaned back, stretching his arms over head and mewling when his back popped pleasantly. Sighing to himself, he decided that h8s break was over and continued to his next chore.

Painting the garage door.

Some people would feel this was a reasonable task. It was, but he had done it four times that week, each time having to scrape off the old paint to make way for the new. Why? Because his uncle would beat him bloody if he didn't. Of course, Harry was paraphrasing. What his uncle had really said was, "I HAD HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR USELESSNESS! AT LEAST THIS WAY YOU'LL BE PULLING YOUR OWN WEIGHT INSTEAD OF RIDING OFF OUR BACKS, BEING THE UNGRATEFUL SHIT YOU ARE! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING US FOR GIVING YOU A ROOF OVER YOUR MISERABLE HEAD AND FOOD IN YOUR BELLY! IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOUR AUNT, I'D HAVE SHIPPED YOU OFF TO AN ORPHANAGE THAT FIRST DAY YOU'D ARRIVED!"

It was pretty much self explanatory.

Harry was now chipping at the pristine white paint he'd only done a day ago; the metal tool scraping and sending dry paint into his face. Harry didn't care, his attention on the door. Therefore, he did not see the red paint ball come sailing at the back of his head.

Pain erupted behind his eyes as he fell to the ground with a yelp. He could faintly hear the laughter behind him as he clutched his head. Groaning, Harry pulled his hand back and blanched at the red stuff on his fingers.

"Nice one Dudley! See if you can get his head again!" The eager voice was quickly joined by the rest of Dudley's gang and Harry barely had enough time to dodge behind the trash bin before another red paint ball hit the garage door right where his head had been.

Looks like Duddy got himself a new hobby. Harry peaked out from his hiding place to see Dudley loading another paint ball into his sling shot. Harry was almost thankful that the Dursleys didn't get him a paint ball gun.

Dudley's face was screwed up in a mean grin as he took aim.

"Come on, freak! Come out and face us like a man! Or are you too much of a pussy?" That sent his gang into another laughing fit. Harry stayed where he was.

When he didn't come out, the group of males began to taunt him, calling him all manner of vulgar names. Still, Harry stayed where he was.

"Pretty brave of you," he called out from his hiding place. "to attack me in front of the neighbors. What if someone saw you? A gang of wanna be thugs beating up helpless people who were minding their own business?"

"So what? Not like they'll come out and help you, a FREAK who has to be sent to an OBEDIENCE school so he can learn to function like us NORMAL people!"

Laughter.

Harry scoffed. His uncle's lie had spread to the neighborhood, he thought bitterly.

"Come on, Potter! Too chicken shit or what?!"

Harry wanted to taunt him back. He wanted to jinx him. He wanted to punch him in his stupid face. He wanted to all that at once. Not in any particular order. But than, like a light switch, he remembered the baby he had hidden in his room.

Why did he suddenly think of her? He could faintly hear the boys complaining of boredom and suggesting going to the park. Harry wasn't paying any attention to them as he imagined Dudley storming into his room in a rage and discovering his secret. Harry paled.

He had to be careful. He couldn't take any more chances like that. There was too much at risk if he continued like he was.

Harry allowed his eyes to flick up to his window. His fearful eyes darkened in determination.

Harry grabbed his tool again and began to scrape at the painted red-white door furiously. He'll protect her. He'll do what he can to make sure she was protected and safe. He'd make sure of that.

 

....

 

Harry had only managed to do a third of what was on his chore list before Vernon came home. Harry had resigned himself to the thought that he'd more than likely be beaten to a pulp and tossed in his room for the duration of his life when his uncle had waddled into the house as quickly as he could and embraced his surprised wife.

"Vernon! What on earth-?"

"Pack your bags, Pet. You and Dudders will be taking a trip to the States!" An honest, happy grin on his face, he gave his wife's sharp cheek bone a kiss and waddled to the kitchen table where a gobsmacked Dudley sat with his mouth full of food. Petunia sputtered.

"What- but, how! I-" Petunia' s stuttering stopped, then she let out a loud gasp.

"You got the promotion?" Her answer was grinning back at her. Her face broke out in a joyful smile. "OH, Vernon! I'm so happy!" She hugged her husband around his thick neck as she continued to praise him.

Harry, who stood at the kitchen entrance, looked anywhere but at the happy family before him. He couldn't help the longing he always felt when the Dursleys acted like a real family. When he was young he used to believe that if he'd worked a little harder, if he'd be a little quieter, he could somehow earn that. To be included and loved like that. But as he grew older he learned that something like that wasn't ever going to happen. That he'd always be a burden they were forced to keep.

"Oh, Vernon, I have to tell Evie. She'll be so jealous!" Petunia wiped a tear from her eye. Vernon chuckles and gave her hand a pat before she rushed off, not noticing Harry who had side stepped to avoid getting in her way. Assuming his aunt was calling her 'friend' Harry made to leave.

"Wait, boy."

Harry stopped. Silently cursing his luck, Harry turned to his uncle, who had lost that happy smile and replaced it with a cold look.

"Yes Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked softly, eyes cast to the floor. Maybe since he's in such a good mood the beatings won't be as bad?

Vernon beckoned with one sausage of a finger. Harry hesitated for only a moment before he shuffled closer. Harry's eyes still cast to the floor with his shoulders slightly hunched in on himself he stood before his uncle, not daring to breathe in case it broke the otherwise unreadable air about his uncle and sent him into a rage. But he only sat with an unusually calm face as his nephew stood before him, shuffling his feet nervously.

"Did you finish all your chores, boy?" The calm question startled him into looking up. His uncle's watery eyes glared at him as he licked his lips nervously.

"No, sir. I have not." He whispered. Harry braced himself for the blow he knew was coming, but was unprepared when he had hit the counter. Harry was sprawled on the ground, dazed, his face and jaw aching terribly. Over the ring in his ears he could hear his cousin laughing behind his hand.

"Get up." It took a little bit but he finally registered the growled order and painfully pulled himself to his feet. He could taste blood. Harry was now facing his uncle again, hunched on himself with his head down. He had scarcely drawn a breath before he was on the ground again; the other side of his face having got the same treatment.

"I gave you a simple order, boy." The man's menacing growl made Harry flinch in terror. "And I expect my orders to be OBEYED! TO THE LETTER!" Harry whimpered when his uncle's chair scraped against the tiles. Harry cried out when his hair was viciously grabbed and he was pulled out of the kitchen. Through his tears, Harry tried to reason with his uncle.

But Vernon Dursley heard none of it.

Harry was thrown over the back of the couch and ordered not to move. Harry knew what was going to happen. He had experienced it many, many times.

When the belt hit his back, he didn't cry out. Crying out only made things worse.

"THE NEXT TIME I GIVE YOU AN ORDER I EXPECT IT TO BE DONE!" Slash. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY OF YOUR LAZINESS YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" Slash. "FREAKS LIKE YOU DESERVE TO BE PUT THROUGH AS MUCH WORK AS POSSIBLE BEFORE YOU FINALLY DIE AND RID THE WORLD OF YOUR FILTH!" Slash. "IT'S THE ONLY GOOD THING FREAKS LIKE YOU ARE WORTH!" Slash, slash, slash.

This went on for barely ten minutes (though to Harry, it felt like hours) before his enraged uncle finally stopped. By then, Harry was a quivering mess. His pained gasps and silent sobs racked the small form as his uncle also gasped for breath.

"Get out of my sight, boy. And no meals for a week!" The self satisfied smile on the man's face sent another shiver of fear through the boy as his hunched form left the living room.

 

.....

 

Harry managed to reach his room before he collapsed. He shivered as wave after wave of pain raced through his whole body.

Harry sobbed.

A soft cry followed.

Despite the pain he was in Harry raced to his bed and scooped up the squaling child. Almost instantly the crying stopped. Harry gave a watery laugh.

"Yeah, yeah princess. I've got you now, don't you worry. Harry's here. Shh, shh. " Harry took one of the pre made bottles from under the bed and began to feed her.

"You know, I still have not named you!" With a pained grunt, Harry began to pace the room; the little girl suckling almost aggressively.

Cloe?

Pbbt.

Rachel?

Eh.

Bernice?

God, that's worse than Cassiopeia.

Jesse.

.... no.

Harry let out a quiet groan. Why is it so bloody difficult to name a child?! He looked down at the innocent face, his eyes softening and a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. And Harry had a thought.

This girl.... in the span of a day.... had made me feel more than I had in the past month. She has been opened my eyes to my surroundings once again; had pulled me out of my mourning and depression and made me FEEL again. She has given me a new hope. A new will to go on. This little angel, who was thrown away like trash.... She gave me HOPE.

Hope.

With a shuddering sigh Harry gently lowered himself to his bed, spooning the sleeping babe against his chest. He swiped the black fuzz off her forehead before giving her a gentle kiss.

"Sweet dreams, my Hope." He whispered before he succumbed to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys liked this chapter, PLEASE, please. I'm begging you. Let me know what you think of it in the comments bellow.
> 
> Also, I wanted to let you know that I changed the summary so it doesnt sound as stupid as it did. (you know who you are, you were thinking it too)
> 
> Anyways, stay lovely you guys!
> 
> PEACE OUT


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter is shorter than my others but I will make it up to you guys next chapter!!

Dear Harry,

If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays.  
If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you.  
Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday,  
I am, yours most sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore*

////

 

Harry's hands, still gripping the letter, began to shake as excitement coursed through his body.

Dumbledore was actually coming to Privet Drive to pick him up. He could already imagin the looks on the neighbor's faces when they see the elderly wizard for the first time, leisurely striding up the street wearing his colorful, oddly patterned robes and knocking on the door of number four. He could practically hear his aunt's shriek of horror and his uncle's enraged yelling already.

Ahh, music to his ears.

Harry's mouth stretched into a joyful smile as he immediately began to pen his answer. He was just about to give it to the rather handsome barn owl, who was resting on his work bench before he stopped himself. Looking back at the happily napping child on his floor and sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

Hope was now at least a month and a half old and was nowhere near the underfed thing he'd found in a river. Her thin frame had filled out quite nicely, with her face having the proper chubbyness all babies seemed to have, framed by fast growing, downy soft hair that tickled the underside of he chin. She'd only just begun opening her eyes and he'd found that nothing was more beautiful. Deep, dark chocolate would stare into emerald green on those rare occasions and the ghost of a smile would appear on pink bow-like lips. Already he could feel his pride and love swell in his chest as he thought of his daughter.

His daughter. Harry had begun calling her his daughter only a week of having her. He had made a pact with himself that he'd give this girl a home and a family that would love her more than the waking world. He could feel his magic pulsing and heat up with the memory of his promise but he'd paid it no mind. He had his own little family now. Nothing could make him happier.

The letter in his hand was unceremoniously thrown onto the bench, the dark owl hooting impatiently. Hedwig eyed the older male encroaching on her territory. With a disdainful look and warning hoot she'd settled more comfortably in her cage and fell asleep. Harry slumped into his mattress with a long and drawn out sigh, uncaring of the noises he was making.

He was no longer sleeping in his cousin's second bedroom. Harry had never feared for his life more than he had did the first few days with his daughter. He was constantly worried he would end up hurting her or her cries would alert the Dursleys. On top of all that she'd also developed a very high fever the next day. He was so afraid and paranoid that she'd die sometime during the night that he'd had difficulties sleeping at all (which he didn't mind all too much as no sleep meant no nightmares). He couldn't ask his relatives for medicine and he was weary about asking his friends; but in the end he'd caved and written to Hermione about acquiring some cold medicine, saying he'd pay her and had stuffed a few pounds in the envelope.

The answering letter he'd gotten back was a long lecture of how he could prevent geting colds, 'how he'd even gotten the cold in the first place?', lots of apologies for his current state, well wishes and a bottle of cold medicine and the money he'd given FOR the bottle of cold medicine.

During that time he'd thought of ways he could sound proof the house without using magic but by the end of the day he'd still had nothing. He'd begun thinking of moving out (or 'running away' as most would call it) and was quite keen of the idea before another idea popped up. The garage was a separate building next to the house and had a loft that his uncle never used -being as big as he was, he couldn't get up the stairs with the railing being missing- and being 'utterly filthy and a lost cause' it was, even his aunt would avoid it. Harry had worked like a man Imperiused as he struggled to complete his long lists of chores all while keeping Hope happy at the same time, hoping he'd catch his uncle in a good enough mood to spring his idea.

 

 

Harry had barely slept the night before and could feel the tiredness weakening his body. Today was the last day of his 'punishment', which only meant he'd be able to eat the slop the Dursleys knowingly gave him.

Well, bully for them, they don't know about the weekly parcel of food being sent to him almost weekly by a certain red head matriarch.

Harry was quick to hide his smug smile as his aunt began to bustle about the kitchen behind him. Harry was quick with the onions, squinting and breathing through his mouth so the fumes didn't affect him before he scraped it into the pan of cooked meat. Dudley had wanted Italian food tonight and Petunia was more than happy to accommodate him.

Harry was careful as he cooked; being sure he didn't burn anything (including himself) as he cooked while his aunt would occasionally swoop in right behind him to check on it. Harry sometimes thought that she and Snape might have been related but would quickly lose that thought as a wave of nausea would turn his stomach. Besides eyeing it with suspicion, she didn't comment as she went back to what she was doing.

'Honestly. It's like she expects me to poison it or something,' Harry thought, rolling his eyes.

A few hours later, dinner was finally finished. Vernon had only just came home and his aunt had rushed to greet him, leaving Harry to set the dinner table.

Harry was nervous. If this plan didn't work he'd have to figure something else out. He couldn't hide a baby here. He's been lucky so far but one day that luck will run out, and then what will he do? He needs this plan to work.

 

Harry was quick to clean the kitchen and dining room; his hands were wrinkled and stunk of bleach by the time he was done. But now wasn't the time to complain. His uncle was sitting in his favorite arm chair, nursing a glass of bourbon as he watched the telly. Harry could feel his whole person tremble at the mere thought of drawing attention to himself but for the sake of his child, he would anything.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry's shaky voice called softly.

The man didn't reply. Harry stepped a bit closer.

"U-ncle?" Harry winced at the tremer.

"What, boy." The man's face was red and, for the most part, annoyed. Harry didn't dare to breathe though. Annoyance can spiral into uncontrollable rage at any moment.

"Um- well, you see... uh," Harry's courage was quickly fading. His form shivered as the red in his uncle's face was quickly turning puce. 

"Spit it out boy! I having got all night!"

Harry cringed. How was he going to bring this up again?

"Well, you see," Harry licked his lips. "I was- I was thinking that-" Damn it! Why is this so hard?! Am I Gryffindor or not!? He could see his uncle's patience rapidly declining. He could see the purple vein on his temple pulsing violently as he glared at him, his watery eyes wide with barely restrained rage.

"What. The BLOODY HELL. DO YOU WANT, BOY!" Harry had to jump back to avoid his uncle's belly as he stood, towering over the smaller boy.

SHIT. What do I do? What do I say? What was the plan again? Why was he here again? Why was he angering his uncle ON PURPOSE. What was going on in his BLOODY head-

Hope. He was doing this for Hope. To keep his little girl safe and unnoticed.

Preparing himself for the blow, Harry came out and said it.

"I wanted to ask you if I could move above the garage, sir."

"...."

"...."

Both uncle and nefew stood silent as the words were processed. Harry could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he took in the odd request. His face then twisted into a sort of hateful sneer.

"What? You don't want to live here anymore, is that it? We had fed you, gave you a roof over your ungrateful head and clothes on your back, had done our best to stamp the freakishness out of you and make you normal for the last fifteen years and your telling me -TELLING me!- that you want to live in a dirty loft?!" He laughed. It was a cruel, mean laugh that sent a chill down his spine.

"I-I just thought that m-maybe you'd like some more space, sir." He had think fast, NOW, or he'd miss his chance and probably get thrown out on his arse. At this rate, that's exactly what's going to happen if he doesn't do something.

"And I thought, well, the loft is never used anyway, I could just move up there. Give you all more room. You could turn it into a den! I heard most men had a den they could retreat to!" Harry was rambling now, trying to get his uncle to see how much he'd get from this. So far, his uncle didn't look impressed.

"- maybe even a supply room. I could pay rent for it! I won't even need to eat the food fom your table, I could buy my own-" Harry was startled when his uncle suddenly grabbed his shoulder in a vice like grip.

"And how are you gonna pay for it, huh? What, do you think just ANYONE would hire a freak like you?" The man's smile was almost maniacal. "Well, by all means! I'd like to see you get a job before I even think about letting you use the attic. Finally, my worthless nefew will be pulling his own weight!" Behind him Dudley snickered while aunt Petunia huffed.

Honestly, Harry had forgotten they were there.

"Well, at least I won't have to put up with your mediocre house work any more." She'd sneered. Harry was almost vibrating with excitement, not even fased by the comment. If aunt Petunia was okay with it, his uncle would surely follow.

"But," Of course there was a bloody 'but'. "if your rent is even a little late, you'll find yourself out on the streets and on your backside faster than you can say, 'oops', and there wouldnt be a damned thing that Headmaster of yours could do about it. Do you understand, boy?" His aunt's words bounced in his head as he nodded. Harry didn't care about the threats. All he cared about was his daughters safety, and now, she was as safe as he was going to get her here at number four, Pivet Drive.

And that is all he could really hope for.

 

 

Now, he had a healthy baby girl, a sound proof room that his relatives avoid like the plague, and a relatively well paying job that -not only payed his uncle's ridiculous living expenses- but also put bread on his table. 

The place had been an absolute mess; dust so thick you'd think you were walking in snow, glass and busted wood littered the floor, old stuffing looking as if rats were nesting in there before him. It was disgusting.

After a thorough cleaning, the place looked a little better. He'd managed to sand and varnish the floors while his relatives were on holiday, leaving the floor safe for the baby to play on but for extra measures, he'd always lay a thick blanket out before putting her down. The ceiling was low, his head barely touching when he stood at his full hight, making Harry, for a brief moment, pleased he was so short.

He'd managed to salvage an ice chest that he'd found buried in the back of the garage that he'd managed to clean up and store his food. Even after last year Mrs. Weasley still sent him the odd parcel of food every month. Combined with that and his income, he should be able eat quite comfortably for the rest of the summer.

 

Harry was jolted out of his musings when a sharp 'hoot!' penetrated the calm atmosphere. Sigh. Right. The letter. Bringing his pillow, Harry made his way to the bench once again and sat down -pillow beneath his bottom- and grabbed a fresh bit of parchment.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I apologize for the inconvenience but I'm afraid I can't stay with the Weasley's this year, as I have taken on a summer job. But if you still need help, I can be of assistance.

Sincerely,  
Harry

Harry folded his letter neatly before handing it to the post owl.

"Here. Take this to Albus Dumbledore up at the school please." The owl gave him a dirty look before snatching the letter out of his hands and, with a indignate screech, flew out the window, Harry watching as it glided over houses and trees before he lost sight of it.

Harry smiled softly before he pulled another piece of parchment to himself.

He needed to write to the Weasley's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Dumbledore wrote this to Harry in the HBP


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER!!! I, in no way, own/profit from The Harry Potter franchise! Any resemblance to the original story I did plagiarize BUT! I just want to throw it out there that I do not own anything affiliated with J. K. Rowling's original story, and that I had only wanted to make this as close to the original as I can without crossing too many lines.
> 
> All original characters are my own
> 
> I hope you guys actually read this, 'cause I don't want to be flamed later or have my story taken down lol. This was just for fun, you guys, I mean no harm!

The early morning sun peaked from behind the parks trees as Harry lightly bounced down the side walk. If one didn't know him personally, (or hadn't been stalking him since the beginning of the summer) they'd simply see a happy young teen on his way to work. The boys light steps made almost no sound against the pavement but the rhythmic thumping of the diaper bag against his hip and the rushing of morning traffic drowned out the river's ever present gurgling.

Warm wind blew across his face as Harry continued down the busy street, dodging muggles expertly as he did so. Whistling a tune Harry tightened his hold on his backpack.

Harry had thought it rather lucky he'd discovered the Tactical Baby Carrier when he did. The camouflaged bag was conveniently shaped like a backpack; the black mesh on the front allowed for Hope to breathe freely and the bulky, detatchable pockets concealed her exposed legs from sight. He had taken to hiding her in his shirt whenever he left the house -which was quite frequently, now that he was working- and had recieved a letter from the Order asking why he was always hunched over on himself not long after. Afraid that someone would come to have another 'talk' with the Dursleys, Harry had been about ready to come clean when he noticed the carrier. The thing had been on sale in the market and Harry couldn't have been more happy with his purchase. Hope was, at the moment, sleeping quite soundly. She'd been rather fussy that morning and kept knocking her bottle away, but he'd managed it in the end.

Wow. The place is really busy this morning, Harry thought absently as he walked through the door. The rich smell of pastries and coffee, as well as the buzz of conversation filled his senses. The Western themed cafe had been on a rising climb to fame as of late; selling almost better than the pizzeria across the street, the Rising Sun was almost constantly active.

With a protective hand on his bag to making sure it didn't knock into anyone as he passed, Harry rushed through the tables and into the back rooms.

"Hey, Harry! Punctual as always, eh?" Marcy Beeres, clad in her black tank and tight jeans, sat confortably on her favorite lounge chair, greeted the male teen. Her electric blue fringe brushed over the rim of her glasses and tickled her left cheek piercing. Her mouth was set in a playful smile as she stood to greet the smaller teen.

Harry gave her an answering smile as he removed the diaper bag and proceeded to toss it at the end of the couch. 

"Hey Marcy. How was your morning?" 

"Oh, you know... The usual. Slept till eight forty and had to rush through my morning to make it here before anyone really noticed." She waved her hand dismissively as she helped Harry with his squirming backpack. Harry snorted.

"So how late were you this time?" Marcy's answering grin could've scared a shark.

"Only an hour and twenty minutes."

Harry's eyes went wide with surprise.

"Are you kidding me?! Only an hour and twenty minutes?!" Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You've got to be having me on. There's no way the boss didn't notice you were that late and still left you alive to tell the tale." Harry unstrapped Hope before he handed her over to Marcy, who had been making grabby hands at him since she stood up. When she finally had the baby her smile became much more self pleased as she rolled her eyes.

"Well of course I didn't get away with it! I have to spend and extra hour overtime tonight cleaning the ovens. But! Only an hour and twenty minutes? That's a fricken record for me. I've never been so early on one of my Sleep-In days in my entire life!" Her pride showed on her sharp face as she then proceeded to smother the baby's face in kisses, making Hope squeal in delight.

Harry laughed.

"Well then maybe you should make it a habit! You'd be in far less trouble if you'd just turn up on time!"

Marcy gasped in fake horror, holding the baby's head to her chest she did so.

"How shameless! Using such language in from of impressionable minds! Shame on you, young man!" She waggled one skinny finger in his face as he continued to laugh. Marcy sniffed disdainfully as she repositioned the babbling baby on her hip. "Honestly, young people these days have no manners. Isn't that right, Estel*? Your meany daddy needs to stop teasing your favorite aunty, doesn't he? Yes he does!" She bounced her hip gently, making the little girl giggle in delight.

Harry grabbed his chest in mock pain.

"You horrible woman! Your words wound me deeply. However shall I go on!"

"By getting your skinny asses back to work before I kick 'em there."

Harry jumped. Almost in unison, the two teens met the stern gaze of their employer guiltily. 

Sherri Beeres, apron covered in flour and egg, stood with her hands on her hips and a frown on her thin lips. Her deep black hair was pulled into a neat bun a the base of her neck, a hair net keeping any and all fly away strands in check. She wasn't very tall -standing only a few inches taller than Harry- but her temper more than made up for her lack of height and was much more frightening than if she towered over the people she wanted to intimidate.

Now here she was, her glare promising pain in the near future as she eyed the two ravenettes.

"Marcy Lou!" The sudden bark snapped the girl to attention.

"Yes ma'am!"

"Get to the counter! We've got a lot of customers and the three up front are floundering. Show them how it's done!"

"Right away, ma'am!" With a not-quite-sassy salute, she passed the baby to Harry before rushing to her post.

Crystal eyes snapped to the remaining teen. Frozen under her icy stare, he waited for his orders.

Sherri pursed her lips. Though on the outside she appeared regal and hostile, she was secretly ready to snatch up the cute peach bouncing in the young man's arms. When the teen had first stepped into her cafe, baby in his over large jacket, Sherri had believed Harry was a homeless young mother looking for work. Of course, after all the necessary questions had been answered and her own evaluation of his character, Sherri hired the scruffy teen for six hours a day, making 7£ and hour. She also allowed him to bring his baby to work as long as he could pull his weight. On their breaks, the employee's would play with the little doll as her daddy worked, helping with diaper changes and feeding her. Just spoiling her in general.

Sherri was not innocent in that regard.

Exhaling sharply through her nose, she took off her apron and hair net.

"I'll watch Hope. My husband needs you in the kitchen."

"Yes ma'am." Harry gave her a shy smile as he exchanged his daughter for the apron and net. The woman gently laid the baby over her shoulder as she swayed; just as she had done for her children.

Good Lord, she missed this.

-

"That's it, boy. I think we're gonna call it a day after this next batch gets done." The man stretched his arms over his head, groaning as his joints popped. The man was tall, towering over Harry at somewhere around six foot. He was a thick man, with arms as wide as Harry's leg.

Though he isn't round like Uncle Vernon, nor is he as beefy as Dudley. He was muscular with a healthy bit of fat around the middle and was a hell of a lot nicer than all his relatives combined. Liam was always wearing a smile whenever he saw him. He was always quick to help when someone needed help and would gently explain what someone was doing wrong.

He kinda reminded him of Hagrid to be honest. Just smaller and less hairy.

They had just finished up making the next days to-go pastries and already they were ready to go home. Hope was snoring away on her fuzzy mat in the corner while Sherri swept the floors and Marcy cleaned the oven. It was 5:30 pm; an hour later than when he usually got off, but he had offered to help bake, so he wasn't complaining.

Harry made quick work cleaning the counters before he set off to gather his things.

"Hey, kid! Take this with ya." Liam shoved a warm pastry bag into his hand, his stubbled cheeks stretched as he smiled.

Harry smiled in delight and thanked the man.

"And take this with you before you forget again." Harry had to maneuver his pastry out of the way as Sherri threw the diaper bag over his head.

"A-ah, yes. Thanks for reminding me." Harry rubbed his neck where the strap sat. He was almost always forgetting the diaper bag at work. Sherri gave him an exasperated look before she slapped the top of his head a few times in a mock head pat.

"Really. Your such a ditse sometimes." The hidden affectionate tone wasn't lost on Harry as he smiled innocently.

"Yep. No argument there." Was the echoed reply.

"Oi!"

His indignant squawk went unnoticed as, upper torso still half inside the oven, Marcy gave him the finger. Harry 'hmph'ed before he gently scooped Hope from her mat. Still sleeping soundly, Harry swaddled her in her red blanket and placed her gently within her carrier.

Making sure she was comfortable, he zipped the top and slung it over his back carefully.

"We'll see you tomarrow Harry! Be safe heading home!" Liam called after Harry while his wife waved goodbye.

"I will! Thank you for having me!" Harry called back before he left the cafe.

The walk home had been mostly by himself: though, occasionally he would get stuck behind, or next to, a few business men or a couple and even a stop light. Harry could feel his energy slipping away and tiredness taking it's place. By the time he got home he felt drained and more than ready to go to bed. Hope, on the other hand, was wide awake and playing with her hippo stuffy; all the while squealing and kicking her feet in excitement whenever the toy crinkled and rattled. She had made little to no noise as he had been walking home so he assumed she was still asleep. He had been pretty startled to see her awake and chewing on her fist.

With a mighty groan, Harry sagged into his bed and propped his arms under his head, shutting his eyes as a fresh wave of exhaustion washed over him. He just wanted to take a few minutes to rest before he had to prepare for Dumbledore's arival.

Harry was excited to see the elderly man after only a few short months. Yes, he was still mad at the old coot for keeping the Prophecy to himself all this time, and for not always being truthful. The man had said it was for his own good, but Harry personally believed that he'dve been better off knowing than being stuck in the dark all this time. If he'd known a few years earlier, he might've been more prepared and less foolhardy. That his godfathers death could have been prevented if Dumbledore had only shared his secrets.

Harry knew that Dumbledore was only keeping him out of it for as long as he could to protect him. Dumbledore had wanted him to be a child for a while longer before he was to be pushed into the war and made to grow up in a relentless time where naivity and innocence was stripped from the World and replaced with terror and paranoia.

Harry wanted to say he was greatful for the man even thinking of him at all, when the rest of the Wizarding World were in greater parrel. If Voldemort had managed to kill him at this moment, it wouldn't even matter because he'd be gone and the rest of the world would continue to suffer under Voldemort's reign. The problem would still go on even when your gone. The only difference is you are no longer suffering alongside the rest of the world.

-

Harry nearly choked on his tongue as he flew off his bed, his wand drawn. The yelling at his door continued, along with his uncle's angry cursing.

Frantic, Harry emptied his hamper of clothes over his sleeping daughter (when had that happened?) and stuffed all the baby things he could find under his bed.

"I'm coming!" Harry threw his thin sheet over the bed so that it hung haphazardly down the side to cover anything that might 'stand out'. Making sure nothing looked too suspicious Harry raced to his door and practically ripped it open to find his puse faced, buggeyed uncle standing at the bottom of the stair case.

With a full glass of something nudging at his head.

"It's about FUCKING time, boy!" The man had made a move to climb the old wooden stairs but seemed to think better of it. The man was ignoring the floating beverage as well as a man ignoring a mosquito buzzing right at his ear. The man's meaty hands were clenched at the man's sides and his watery eyes kept glancing at the object of his annoyance with a combination of rage and terror. 

If it had been any other time, Harry would have laughed. But since it wasn't, and his uncle's attention was focused on him; Harry wanted to hide.

"I'm so sorry for making you wait, uncle!" Harry's voice quivered as he slowly descended the stairs.

"Never mind, boy! I don't want your damn apology. I want you to get RID of that other freak NOW, before I get rid of YOU!" Spittle flew from the man's mouth as he snarled the last bit and grabbed a startled Harry by the wrist and began to drag him out the garage door as fast a s he could, the beverage keeping perfect pace and continuing to nudge impatiently at the fatter man's head.

Ignoring the strangness of it all Harry focus was turned to something else. His uncle's words surprised Harry but none more so than the black as pitch sky. It was already so late? Who in there right mind would visit the Dursley's at such a late-

Of course! Dumbledore!

No sooner had the name crossed his mind before his uncle had drug him in through the back door and pulled him through his aunt's pristine kitchen before finally throwing his arm away. Vernon spun around to point one sausage-like finger in his face.

"If those freaks have been poking around in my buisness again, you can bet your arse you'll be picking your teeth out my carpet later on." And with that the man gave one last swat to the impatient glass at his temple, spun around and left the kitchen; leaving a shocked Harry behind.

Oh bloody hell. I hope to Merlin Dumbledore doesn't bring that up. After all, he was still staying for the summer and he didn't want to be on his uncle's bad side any more than he already was. Breathing slowly, Harry followed his uncle's example and left the kitchen.

When he stepped into the living room to see the colorful old man sitting in the Dursleys plush sitting chair, quietly sipping from his beverage while his aunt and cousin were trying their best to ignore similar beverages as they knocked into the sides of their head. Harry nearly grinned.

At the sight of Harry the elderly man greeted the teen jovially.

"Ah! There you are my boy! I was starting to believe that you had forgotten this old man." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled behind half moon glasses as he stood.

"Of course not, sir. I'm afraid I had only lost track of the time," Harry replied. Of course, he wasn't lying. He had only shut his eyes for a mere moment before he was brutally waken by his hysterical uncle.

"Of course, of course my boy." The sparkle never left as he gestured for Harry to sit. Then, when Harry was seated he promptly sat himself, humming to himself as he swirled his drink.

"Now. Enough with the pleasantries. I'm afraid this is not a social call -as you well know- but a buisness transaction of sorts. Mead?" With a wave of his wand, a similar glass of honey color liquid -mead- had appeared and floated into Harry's awaiting hand.

"Thank you, sir." Taking a small sip he decided he quite liked it.

"Your welcome, my boy." The man smiled before taking a sip of his own; smacking his lips softly and sighing. "Mmm. Madam Rosmerta's finest! You know, she gives me a bottle of her famous oak-matured mead every year on my birthday? Fine young lady."

Harry hummed quietly. He was still in awe at the fact Albus Dumbledore was making himself comfortable in his relative's sitting room while his relatives sat in horrored (on Dudley and aunt Petunia's part) and enraged (on his uncle's part) silence.

"Well, Harry," Harry's attention snapped back to Dumbledore, who had turned to face him. "a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned."

This seemed to interest his uncle but Harry didn't look at him. "Oh? Is that right."

"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Dumbledore continued. "You add reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal belongings. The slightly problematic part is the legacy-"

"His godfather's dead?" said uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore looked at him while Harry silently stared at the picture behind the headmaster's head. "He's dead? His godfather?"

Dumbledore answered in the affirmative.

"Yes." Harry mentally thanked him when he didn't ask why he hadn't told his relatives. "Our problem," he continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted before. "is that Sirius also left you number 12, Grimmald Place."

"He's been left a house?"His uncle's greedy tone was ignored.

"You can keep using it as headquarters," Harry said quickly. "I don't mind at all!" He wanted to say that he could keep it; he didn't want to ever step foot in that place again. But something inside of him was telling him that it'd be smarter to keep it: hated as it was, it might be useful in the future.

The man gave him a kindly smile. "Thank you, Harry. That is very generous of you. We have, however, vacated the building temporarily."

"Why?"

"Well," they both ignored the angry mutters of uncle Vernon, who's persistent glass of mead knocked sharply at the man's temple. "Black tradition decreed that the house be handed down the direct line, to the next Male with the name of 'Black'. Sirius was the very last, as his brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wanted you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood."

A very strong image of Sirius's mother came to the forefront of his mind. "I wouldn't put it pass them to do just that."

"My sentiment exactly," Dumbledore nodded. "And if such an enchantment exists, then ownership of the house will likely pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Without meaning to, a snarl escaped his lips as he jumped to his feat.

"Absolutley not!" Just the thought of Sirius's killer inheriting the house...

"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either. The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we placed placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep any minute. Naturally we had to move out until such a time as we have clarified the possition." Dumbledore's even and calm tone didn't make him worry any less.

"How are you going to find out if I'm allowed to own it?"

"Fortunately for us, there is a simple test we can try."

Placing his now empty glass on the table beside his chair, he had about reached into his pocket when uncle Vernon shouted, " Will you get these ruddy things off us?!"

Harry looked around; with their arms covering their heads, the Dursleys cowered as their mead glasses bounced atop of their heads, spilling amber liquid everywhere. He had to bite his knuckle to stop himself from laughing.

"Oh! Pardon me," With a swish of his wand, the glasses vanished. I'm so sorry," His tone stated otherwise. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."

His uncle looked as if he'd swallowed a lemon. He looked as if he wanted to say a number of unpleasant expletives, but must've thought better of it and sank into the cushions beside his wife and and son, who both remained silent.

"You see," turning back to Harry and, once again ignoring uncle Vernon, Dumbledore continued. "If you have indeed inherited the house, that would mean you also inherited-"

Flicking his wand yet again, there was a loud clack, and a house elf appeared.

A very familiar house elf.

With it's snout touching the floor, giant bat's ears, and giant bloodshot eyes, Kreature crouched on the floor of the Dursleys sitting room, wearing nothing but a grimy rag. The sight of the elf made aunt Petunia shriek in disgust and horror. Such filth had never once graced her immaculate home before and the sight before her made her skin crawl. Dudley, too, sat in disgust, his legs raised well away from the thing in the middle of the room.

"What the hell is that thing?!"

"Kreature," finished Dumbledore.

"Kreature won't, Kreature won't, Kreature won't!" croaked Kreature, almost as loudly as uncle Vernon, as he stomped his long, boney feet and pulled at his ears. "Kreature belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreature belongs to the Blacks, Kreature won't go with the Potter brat, Kreature won't, won't, won't, won't-"

"As you can see, Harry," said Dumbledore loudly, having to speak over Kreature's continued croaks of "won't, won't, won't," "Kreature is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership."

Harry looked in disgust at the stamping house elf. The idea of owning the elf, after what he had done, was intolerable. But allowing the thing to go to Bellatrix, knowing what it knows, was out of the question.

"Well... what do I do?" Harry asked loudly, so he could be heard over the racket.

A look of mild surprise crossed his face before Dumbledore replied, "Just give him an order. If he passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, than we will have to work out some other means of keeping him away from his rightful mistress."

You could lop off his head and have it hung next to the others. I bet Kreature would like that. But instead of saying that, Harry said the second thing that came to mind.

"Won't, won't, won't, won't, WON'T!"

"Kreature, SHUT UP!"

Automatically, the room became silent. Kreature, eyes bugging, his mouth still moving, grabbed at his neck as if he was being choked. When he realized what had happened he threw himself to the ground and, with his face buried in the shag carpet, began to pound equally boney fists into the floor, his back rising and falling as he sobbed.

"Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore cheerfully. 

"Do I have to keep him with me?" Harry asked, watching as Kreature thrashed around at his feet.

"Not if you don't want to," Dumbledore paused. "Perhaps you could send him to the kitchen at Hogwarts; that way the house elves their could keep an eye on him."

"Yes! Yes, yes ill do that!" Harry's relief made his tense shoulders sag just a little. "Kreature- I want you to work in the kitchens with the other house elves at Hogwarts. Please." That last bit surprised even him. Why did he say please?

The house elf had stopped -rather abruptly- and was lying on his back. Looking back at him with a confusing mix of emotions and, with yet another crack, he was gone.

Huh.

"Now that that matter has been seen to, their is also the matter of the hippogriff, Buckbeak." The man smiled. "Hagrid has been kind enough to look after him since Sirius died, but Buckbeak is yours now, so if you would prefer to make different arrangements-"

"No," said Harry hurriedly. "he can stay with Hagrid. After being stuck in in a filthy attic I believe Buckbeak would prefer that. And Hagrid must have been over the moon seeing him again, I'm sure."

"Hagrid was utterly thrilled and will be delighted with the news." Harry smiled at the thought. "Also, incidentally, we had decided, though I don't think ministry would remember the same hippogriff having been sentenced to death only three years prior, for Buckbeak's safety to rename him 'Witherwings' for the time being. Now, I believe, it is time we head out. Do you have your jacket?" The abrupt change of topic didn't deter Harry as he stood.

"No sir, but I'll go get it!" 

Harry ran through the kitchen and out the back door as fast as he could; running around the back of the house, harry flew open the garage door and ran up the old steps till he was in his room.

It took him only a minute to find his jacket and he hurriedly put it on. Next, he grabbed his blankets and pillows and made a cozy looking nest at the head the his head before he dug Hope out from underneath the pile of laundry and gently set her within. Covering her with her softest red blanket he also placed a pacifier by her mouth for reassurance. When he he was content that his baby would be fine without him for a while, Harry kissed her head sweetly and left, locking the door quietly behind him.

When he returned to the sitting room, the headmaster was humming quietly to himself; appearing for all purposes, content, sitting in his chair while the Dursleys sat quietly on the sofa.

"I'm ready when you are, sir."

"Good," The man stood. "Then we'll just see ourselves out then, as I am sure your relatives are quite tired and I wouldn't want to impose any more than I have already done," Though he didn't seem at all apologetic. "We'll be off then! Ah, Harry would you mind bringing your Invisibility Cloak? It might just be needed."

"Oh. Of course, sir." Harry, again, left through the back door and into the garage were, after a bit of searching, found what he was looking for. Giving Hope one last kiss Harry returned to the Durlsey's sitting room.

Slightly out of breath Harry stuffed the Invisibility Cloak in his pocket.

"Ready, sir."

"Then we shall be off!" Dumbledore said, moving to the front door.

"Bye." He didn't feel it was neccessary, but he didn't want to seem rude in front of Dumbledore so he waved at his silent relatives and followed the old man out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry this so late. I had meant to post this last month but a situation came up and I couldn't do it.
> 
> So, anyone who know's, Wyoming roads in the winter are a bitch to drive on. My sister had only just got her driver's license, aaaaaand, about an hour later, on the way home, rolled the vehicle.
> 
> Mmmmhhhhmmmm.
> 
> Yep.
> 
> No one was hurt. No property (other than our own) was damaged. As far the police know, everyone were wearing their seatbelts. She didn't get a single strike on her license.
> 
> Me, at thirteen; my mom getting stopped by the police with me sitting in the front. I get a fucking ticket and a strike on my license.
> 
> I was thirteen; I didn't HAVE a fucking license.
> 
> So that happened.


	5. Chapter 4

Harry felt extremely awkward as he and Dumbledore set off down the street together. Despite them being close at school (last year withstanding) Harry hadn't really talked to the man outside of Hogwarts. Grimacing, Harry remembered his last encounter with the man; shouting at him, and smashing the man's possessions was at the forefront of his mind as Harry's face reddened in embarrassment.

Although Dumbledore seemed utterly unperturbed, Harry couldn't help shrinking in on himself in preparation of retaliation.

"Keep your wand at the ready, Harry," Dumbledore said, brightly. 

The sudden break of silence startled Harry but, never the less, Harry obeyed. Given the circumstances, he didn't think underage magic concerned the Ministry at the moment, what with bigger issues popping into light. 

Dumbledore came to a sudden halt at the end of Privet Drive. Harry, following slightly behind and caught unawares nearly slammed into him.

"You haven't, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said.

"Um... well, no. Don't you had to be seventeen to take it?"

"You do, so you will need to hold onto my arm very tightly. Preferably my left, if you don't mind- as you may have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment." The man held his blackened hand out and Harry wrapped his thin hands around the crook of his elbow.

"Very good," said Dumbledore. "Well, here we go."

In the wink of an eye, the pair were gone.

 

Harry gasped as the cool night air filled his lungs once again, his shoulders shuddering with each intake. Eyes streaming Harry took in their surroundings. They seemed to have landed in a village square. At the center stood an old looking memorial covered in ivy and a few benches.

So this was Apparation, Harry thought blandly. Harry shuddered at the recent memory.

"Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, his voice slightly concerned, although the twinkle in the man's eyes revealed his amusement. "It does take some getting used to but eventually you get the hang of it!"

"I'm fine, sir," Harry smiled shakily, rubbing at his ears, which felt as if they'd left Privet Drive rather reluctantly. "Although I think my preferred choice of transportation are brooms..."

Dumbledore's smile remained as he drew his cloak more firmly to his person, and said, " This way."

Harry followed the elderly man as they passed an empty inn and a few houses. Looking at an old clock on a church, it read only few minutes to midnight.

"So tell me, Harry. Your scar... has it been hurting at all?"

Harry unconsciously traced the lightning bolt. He honestly had not been aware of it. With his godfathers death and finding his baby girl, he hadn't had any thoughts to spare for either Dark Lord or their connection. "No," he finally answered. "and I wonder about that. I thought it burn more now that Voldemort is getting so powerful again."

The half truth seemed to convince Dumbledore as the man smiled in satisfaction.

"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise. Lord Voldemort has finally realized the truth of the connection you've been enjoying. It appears he has been employing Occlumency against you."

"Well, I'm definitely not complaining," said Harry, missed neither the dreams or random flashes of feelings and thoughts from Voldemort's mind.

Turning a corner, the duo passed a telephone box and a bus shelter where a lonely stray cat lay asleep. Harry glanced sideways a Dumbledore again. "Professor?"

"Harry?"

"Eh... where are we?"

"This is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton."

"And what are we doing here, sir?"

"Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you,' said Dumbledore, hurriedly. "Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but, once again, I'm afraid Hogwarts is one staff member short. We are here to persuade an old friend of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion.

"How can I help with that, sir?"

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you," said Dumbledore vaguely. "Left her, Harry."

They turned up a steep, narrow street lined with houses. All the windows were pitch black. The chill of the night air sent a familiar shiver down the young wizards spine. There was a foreboding aura lingering at the back of his mind and he grasped his wand for reassurance.

'Why couldn't we just Apparate directly into their house?' Even as he thought this, Harry already knew the answer.

Turning up another steep street, Harry decided to break the silence.

"I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has been sacked..."

"Correct," said Dumbledore. "He has been replaced, as I'm sure you also saw, by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be Head of the Auror office."

"Do you think he's good?" asked Harry.

"An interesting question," said Dumbledore. "He is able, certainly. A more decisive and forceful personality than Cornelius."

Harry nodded, unsure. Dumbledore glanced at his student from the corner of his eye.

"Be at ease, Harry. Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark wizards and witches most of his working life, does not underestimate Lord Voldemort."

Harry waited to see of Dumbledore would mention the disagreement the Daily Prophet had reported of the new Minister, but the man stayed silent. Harry, unsure whether to pursue this topic, changed the subject.

"I heard about Madame Bones." Harry imagined Susan Bones, his fellow year mate. She must've been devastated with the news.

"Yes," said Dumbledore quietly. "A terrible loss. She was a great witch. Just up her, I think- ouch."

He had pointed with his injured hand.

"Professor, what happened to your-?"

I have no time to explain now," Dumbledore cut in gently." It is a thrilling tale and I wish to do it justice."

Harry felt like an ass but Dumbledore only smiled at him kindly and he knew he wasn't being snubbed, and that he had permission to keep asking questions.

"Sir- I got a Ministry of Magic leaflet by owl, about security measures we should all take against the Death Eaters..."

"Yes, i received one myself," said Dumbledore, still smiling. "Did you find it useful?"

"Not in the slightest, no."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"No, I thought not. You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favorite flavor of jam, to check that i am indeed Professor Dumbledore and not an imposter."

"I didn't..." Harry began, not entirely sure if he was being reprimanded or not.

"For future reference, Harry, is is raspberry... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."

Harry dutifully stored that odd bit of information away.

Right, well, on the leaflet, it said something about Inferi. What exactly are they? The leaflet wasn't very clear."

"They are corpses," said Dumbledore calmly. Dead bodies that have been bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however, since Voldemort was last powerful... He killed enough people to make an army of them, of course."

"So they are like the muggle version of zombies?" Dumbledore's quirked brow made Harry continue.

"The muggles portrayal of zombies sound almost identical to Infari. Zombies have been used for years as a theme for horror films filled with animated corpses with a hunger for human flesh." Harry felt his face flush as Dumbledore's mouth opened in a small 'o'.

"You know, I do believe you are quite right," he exclaimed. "There is not much of a difference between the two! Mayhaps some unsuspecting muggle happened across one in their lives, or a Squib had used Inferi as a muse,"

The elder man pondered over this, giving it way more thought than it deserved in Harry's opinion.

"Ah! This is the place, Harry, just here..."

They were near a small, neat stone house set in it's own garden. Harry was still digesting the horrible realization that zombies were, in fact, REAL, as his relatives always used to threaten. Harry wasn't paying much attention so it took him by surprise when Dumbledore suddenly stopped.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."

Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended path and felt a heavy coldness settle in his stomach. The front door seemed to have been blasted open and was barely hanging from its hinges.

Dumbledore glanced up and down the street. It seemed quite deserted.

"Wand out and follow me, Harry," he said quietly.

Opening the front gate, the man walked swiftly and silently up the garden path, Harry at his heels, then pushed the front door very slowly, his wand raised and at the ready.

"Lumos."

The tip of Dumbledore's wand tip ignites, casting a bluish white glow up a narrow hallway. To their left, another door stood open. Holding his illuminated wand aloft, Dumbledore walked into the sitting room with Harry right behind him.

The room had been utterly trashed. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, it pendulum lying a bit farther away. A piano was on its side, its Keyes scattered across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier littered in the artificial light. Cushions played slashed, it's stuffing spilling out of the sides. Glass and China pieces lay shattered upon the ground and strewn over the wreckage. Harry couldn't contain his gasp as something darkly red and splattered over the wallpaper caught him unaware, making Dumbledore look around.

"Not pretty, is it?" He said heavily. Harry shook his head in the negative. Dumbledore continued with a nod, "Yes, something horrible has happened here."

Harry followed Dumbledore as he moved carefully into the center of the room, gazing around, half scared of what he might see hidden behind the wreck of the piano or the overturned sofa, but there was no sign of a body.

"Maybe there was a fight and- and they dragged him off somewhere?" Harry didn't want to imagine the state of the man: of how badly wounded he must've been to leave those stains halfway up the walls.

"I don't believe so," said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side.

"You mean to say he's-?"

"Still here somewhere? Yes."

Without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Ouch!"

"Good evening, Horace."

Harry's jaw went slack. Where a second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with watery eyes.

"Was it necessary to stick your wand in that hard?" he asked gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt."

The wand light sparkled on his shiny head, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walrus like mustache, and the polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he wore over a pair of lila silk pajamas. The top of the man's head barely reached Dumbledore's chin.

"What gave it away?" he grunted as he continued to rub his sore belly. He seemed remarkably calm for a man who had been discovered pretending to be an armchair.

"My dear Horace," began Dumbledore, looking amused. "if the Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over the house."

The pudgy wizard slapped a had to his forehead.

"Of course," he muttered. " I knew I was missing something.... ah mell. Wouldn't have enough time anyway, I'd only finished my upholstery when you entered the room."

"Would you like my assistance clearing up?" asked Dumbledore politely.

"Please," said the other.

Standing back to back, the tall thin wizard and the short round one, they waved their hands in one identical sweeping motion.

All at once furniture began to fly back into their original places; ornaments reformed in mid air, feathers into their cushions; torn books mended themselves as they zoomed to their rightful places upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared onto side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture frames glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks, and holes healed everywhere, and the walls wiped themselves clean.

"What kind of blood was that, incidentally?" asked Dumbledore loudly over the chiming of the newly unabashed grandfather clock.

"On the walls? Dragon," shouted the wizard called Horace, as a deafening grinding and tinkling of a chandelier screwed itself back into the ceiling.

With a final 'plunk' from the piano, there was silence.

Harry was in awe at the display of magic. Eyes flying around the newly decorated room he played no attention to the wizards as he slowly wandered over to the sleek piano, now with a complete set of keys and standing upright. It was quite a pretty thing with black paint and scratch free. Although he never had any experience around pianos- in fact this was his first time being around one!- Harry liked to listen to the concerts his aunt Petunia would sometimes turn on as he worked. He found the music peaceful and often got lost in it, earning a fair round of smacking for not paying attention but Harry didn't mind.

A sharp sound of something being set down made Harry turn to the elder two wizards and found the shorter one's eyes upon him.

"Oho," he said, his large round eyes eyes flying from Harry's face to his uncovered forehead. "Oho!"

"This," said Dumbledore, moving forward to make the introduction as Harry tried to discreetly smooth his hair over his scar, "is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."

Harry gave an awkward wave of his hand but Slughorn only spun on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. "So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus."

He pushed past Harry, his face turned away almost childishly, with a n air of a man trying to resist temptation.

"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" asked Dumbledore. "For old time's sake?"

Harry saw Slughorn hesitate before nodding to himself.

"Yes, alright then. One drink," he said ungraciously.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry and guided him toward a chair not unlike the one Slughorn had recently impersonated, which was a bright red color and stood beside the brightly burning fire place. Harry took the seat with impression that Dumbledore wanted him visible, as Slughorn busied himself with decanters and glasses.

When the man's gaze fell on Harry he'd quickly look away as though frightened of hurting his eyes. "Here-" He gave a drink to Dumbledore, who had sat down without invitation, thrust the tray at a startled Harry, and then sank into the cushions of an equally red sofa opposite of Harry.

After a bit of awkward silence, Dumbledore finally spoke.

"Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not so well, I'm afraid," Slughorn at once. "Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue."

"And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such a short notice," said Dumbledore. "You can't have had more than three minutes' warning?"

Slughorn, half irritably, half proudly, said, "Two. Didn't hear the Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still," he added sternly, appearing to have pulled himself together once again. "the fact remains that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few creature comforts."

Few comforts indeed, thought Harry as he glanced about the room. It was cluttered with nick nacks, yet nobody could say it was uncomfortable; there were soft chairs and foot stools, drinks and sweets, book shelves and plump cushions. Harry would've guessed a ritch, fussy old lady living here instead of a rotund ex professor like Slughorn.

"Your not yet as old as I am, Horace," said Dumbledore.

"Well then, perhaps maybe you should think of retirement yourself," retorted Slughorn bluntly. His pale gooseberry eyes had found Dumbledore's injured hand. "Reactions not what they were, I see."

"Your quite right,"said Dumbledore serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of blackened finger tips. The sight sent an uneasy feeling throughout his body. "I am undoubtedly slower than I once was. But on the other hand..."

He shrugged and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had its compensations, and Harry noticed a ring on his uninjured hand that he could've sworn never seeing before.

Not deeming it to be important, Harry settled to nibbling on a biscuit (as Slughorn didn't pour him a drink, instead, giving him biscuits).

"So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace... are they for the Death Eaters' benefit, or mine?" asked Dumbledore.

"What would Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer like me?" demanded Slughorn.

"I imagine that they would want you to turn considerable talents to coercion, torture and murder," said Dumbledore. "Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?"

Dumbledore was eyed balefully for a moment, then he muttered, "I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for a year. Never stayed in one place more than a week. Move from muggle house to muggle house- the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands- is been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use and make sure the neighbors don't spot you smuggling in the piano."

"Ingenious,"said Dumbledore. "But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you return to Hogwarts-"

"If your going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath! I might have been in hiding, but I some funny rumors have reached me since Delores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days-"

"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur heard," said Dumbledore. "I think you, Horace, would've had better sense than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs 'filthy halfbreeds', yes?"

"Is that what she did?" asked Slughorn in astonishment. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her."

Harry giggled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at him.

"I'm sorry," Harry felt his face flush. "Its just- we didn't like her either."

 

Dumbledore stood up rather abruptly.

"Are you leaving?" asked Slughorn, looking looking hopeful.

"No, I was wondering if I might use your wash room,"said Dumbledore.

"Oh," said Slughorn, clearly disappointed. "It's the second door on the left down the hall."

Dumbledore left the room. Once the door had closed behind him, their was silence. Harry sat quietly subtly casting glances around the room before returning his gaze to his lap. The feeling of uneasiness had never left as he rolled his tense shoulders. In fact, it doubled. If he didn't know better, he would've thought it was Slughorn that made him uneasy. True, the sneaked glances from the wizard made him uncomfortable, but when has he ever not been when people gawked at him? It's not like he wasn't used to it anyways, right? This feeling felt different though. Like he was missing something.

Or something was missing him.

Suddenly Slughorn was right next to him, warming his wide behind by the fire.

"Dont think I don't know why Dumbledore's brought you," he said abruptly.

Harry merely looked at Slughorn. Slughorn's watery eyes slid over Harry's scar, this time taking in the rest of his face.

"You look very like your father."

"Yeah, I've been told," said Harry.

"Except your eyes. You've got-"

"My mother's eyes, yeah," harry had heard it so often he found it a bit wearing.

"Yes, well. You shouldn't pick favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother," Slughorn added, in answer to Harry's questioning look. "Lily Evens. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, charming girl. I would tell her she ought to have been in my house. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too."

Harry tilted his head slightly.

"Which was your House?"

"I was Head of Slytherin," said Slughorn. "Oh, now," he went on quickly, seeing g Harry grimace slightly at the mention of the serpents House and wagged a stubby finger at him, "don't hold it against me! You'll be a Gryffindor like her, I suppose? Yes, it's usually in the families. Not always, though. Ever hear of Sirius Black? You must have done- been in the papers for the last few years- died a little while ago-"

Harry felt the air freeze in his lungs and his chest begin to ache with a fresh wave of grief. He dragged a shaky breath in through his nose and clenched his hands together, tightly.

"Well, anyway, he was a big pal of your father's at school. The whole Black family had been in my House, but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor! Shame- he was a talented boy. I got his younger brother Regulus, but I would've liked the set."

The way he talked he sounded like an excited collector who had been out bid at an auction. Lost in memories, he gazed at the opposite wall, turning idly on the spot an even heat on his rump.

"Your mother was muggle born, of course. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must've been a pure blood, she was so good."

"One of my best friends is muggle born," said Harry. "and she's the best in our year."

"Funny how that happens, isnt it?" said Slughorn.

"Not really," Harry replied abruptly, his eyes like ice.

 

Slughorn looked at him in surprise. You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" he said. "No, non, no! Haven't I just said your mother was my all time favorite student? And there was Dirk Cresswell on the year after her too- now head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course- another Muggle Born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside I formation on the goings-on in Gringotts!"

Harry had spaced out half way through and was now feeling quite uncomfortable. He felt antsy, that uneasy feeling getting subtly stronger. What is that?

Again, Harry was startled out of his musings when the man bounced across the room, pointing at all his glittering photograph frames.

"All ex students, all signed. You'll notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Day Prophet, has always interest to hear my take on the day's news. And Anbrosius Flume, of Honeydukes- a hamper every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back- you'll see if you crane your neck- that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the Holyhead Harpies.... People are always surprised to hear I'm on first name basis with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!"

He seemed to cheer up at the end.

"Do these people still contact you? Send you things?" Harry couldn't help wondering how this man had not been found out yet, if he was still receiving hampers full of sweets, quidditch tickets and visitors wanting advise and opinions could find him.

The smile fell from Slughorn's face.

"Of course not," he said, looking down at Harry. "I have been out of touch with everybody for a year."

Harry had the impression that the words shocked Slughorn himself. He looked quite unsettled before he shrugged.

"Still... the humble wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate-"

 

"You don't have to be an Order member to teach at Hogwarts," said Harry, who's tone of derision colored his soft voice. "Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed- besides Quirrell, who was working with Voldemort the whole time." Harry wanted to say he deserved it but figured it wasn't a polite thing to say.

Harry had been so sure that Slughorn was the type to cringe at the mere mention of Voldemort's name, and wasn't disappointed: the man gave a shudder and a squeak of protest, which Harry ignored.

"I'd reckon the staff are much safer than most people while Dumbledore is headmaster; he's supposed to be the one wizard Voldemort ever truly feared, right?" Harry went on.

Slughorn seemed to close off for a moment or two: Seemingly thinking Harry's words over.

"Well, yes, it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore," he muttered grudgingly. "And I suppose one could argue that I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me as a friend..."

While the man droned on, Harry wrung his wrists in anxiousness as he fought the urge to shudder. He was more than ready to go home at this point and cuddle his cute daughter. It didn't feel right not having her with him; if he could, he would've brought her but the risk of Dumbledore finding out was too high. No matter how kind the man is, Harry didn't believe even he would allow it. And even if he did, what then? Would he be allowed to take care of her at Hogwarts? Would she sleep in the Gryffindor dorm with him, or would they be given their own rooms?

Harry didn't want to think about the alternate.

The buzz of Slughorn's onesided debate ended with Dumbledore's arrival.

"Oh, there you are, Albus," said Slughorn. "You've been gone a very long time. Upset stomach?"

"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines," said Dumbledore. "I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave."

Not at all reluctant to obey, Harry bounced to his feet. Slughorn seemed taken aback.

"Your leaving?"

"Yes indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one."

"Lost...?"

Slughorn seemed agitated. He twiddle his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Dumbledore fasten his cloak, and Harry zip up his jacket.

"Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace," said Dumbledore, raising his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."

"Ah... yes... well... very gracious... as I say...."

"Good bye, then, Horace."

"Bye," said Harry.

They had reached the front door when a shout from behind them stopped them.

"Oh, all right, all right, I'll do it!"

Harry's small groan went unnoticed as Dumbledore turned to the new professor.

"You will come out of retirement?"

"Yes, yes! I must be mad, but yes!"

Dumbledore beamed.

"Wonderful! Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."

"Yes, I dare say you will," grunted Slughorn.

As they set down the garden path, Slughorn's voice floated after them, "I'll want a pay raise, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore only chuckled as they set off down the hill through the dark and mist.


	6. Chapter 5

Harry woke up much earlier than he'd have liked to his daughter's squeals of enjoyment as she violently shook her Hippo stuffy. With red eyes he watched for a moment as Hope snarled and gummed the toy before squealing and banging its face into the mattress. Harry's soft chuckle went unnoticed. Barely two months old, Hope was extremely active (and vocal) when it comes to playing.

After a few minutes of this, Hope's stomach finally caught both their attention.

"Morning, cutie pie," said Harry, softly rubbing a finger against Hope's cheek. "Are you ready for some breakfast?"

Hope's answering gummy grin made Harry laugh.

Wiping his eyes, Harry chuckled, "Of course you are! What a silly question." Harry scooped the girl up and held her over his face. "Does my little star want some milk? Or do you want to try something a little different today?" Of course, he wasn't expecting a reply, so he kissed her belly till she squealed and wiggled.

"Let's try a bit of both, hmm? Does that sound good?" Harry smiled, sitting up.

Daughter placed against his chest in a practiced maneuver, Harry set about getting her changed and making breakfast for the both of them.

With a plate of ham and a glass of water set aside for him, Harry placed a luke warm bottle of formula down before him and maneuvered his knee to rest against the table before placing Hope down in his lap.

"What have we got here," Harry asked retoricly. He had a glass jar full of orange mush that was supposed to be carrot and a small plastic spoon. Twisting off the lid Harry took a tentative sniff.

Yep. Carrots.

"Okay," said Harry excitedly. Dipping the small spoon into the jar of mush, Harry raised it into the air. "Here comes the dragon! Raaawwwrrr!" Moving the spoon like it was flying, Harry made a 'fwooooosh!' as it landed at her lips. She didn't take it at first, but she opened her mouth slowly and let Harry place the goo in her mouth.

Her face was comical.

When he pulled the spoon out, her eyes widened and her body jerked in surprise at the new flavor. Then it morphed into eagerness as she looked expectantly at the spoon, making a soft 'mmmmm' sound.

"Is that yummy?" Harry asked, dipping the spoon in again. His answer was a louder 'MMMMM' as she 'caught' the 'dragon' again, happily eating the mush.

When the jar was half done he set it aside. Wiping Hope's mouth with a wipe he set her down on her mat and propped the bottle with a clean towel. When she didn't make any complaints, Harry returned to his chair and started on his own breakfast.

Harry rubbed his tired eyes before looking at the clock hanging over the door.

6:37.

"Ugh, it's much too early," Harry groaned, resting his face in his elbow. He'd gotten back somewhere around 2 am that night, Dumbledore keeping him out for another ten or so minutes before allowing him to go to bed.

Harry didn't much like Slughorn, especially when Dumbledore informed him of the other man's 'collecting' habits. To Harry it sounded too much like the pedophiles his relatives had warned him- well, Dudley anyway- about; older men who lured young boys and girls with promises of treats and such so they could kidnap and do unspeakable things to them. His uncle had looked pointedly at him when he had said this part.

Harry shuddered at the memory.

Looking at the floor, Harry saw Hope peacefully gumming at the rubber nipple, snarling slightly. Grinning in amusement, Harry reached down and picked her up. Taking the bottle away Harry used a corner of the towel to wipe her chin again before giving her temple a kiss.

"I think it's bath time for you, little Missy," said Harry as he kissed her cheeks. Hope squealed and kicked in joy, raising her hands to Harry's face to grab at his glasses. Chuckling, Harry set her gently on her tummy, making sure to grab some of her toys that was scattered over her mat for her to play with and, grabbing the rubber washing tub, he left the room.

Shutting the door firmly- just incase- Harry kept to the wall as he went down the stairs: being mindful of the missing step in the middle where one of Dudley's goons had tried to sneak his way into his room late one night.

The smell of fuel and exhaust smoke was heavy in the air as his bare feet made contact with the cold concrete and he padded all the way to the open garage door, where the early morning sun was shining through the entrance. Harry rushed out as fast as he could without slipping on the wet grass and quickly unwound the water hose. Turning it on, Harry was relieved to feel hot water as he quickly filled the rubber tub. When the stream began to cool Harry turned the water off and carefully made his way back to his loft.

When he returned- after making sure to close the garage door- he set the tub on the floor.

Wiping his soaked hands on a towel he quickly set about grabbing a fresh pair of clean clothes and a new nappy before, once again, scooping the infant into his arms.

 

When that was all said and done, Harry set about getting himself ready for the day.

Hope napping only a few feet away, Harry hummed as he bathed himself with a fresh tub of water and got dressed in a pair of fitting black jeans and a clean Slytherin green shirt. 

Fully dressed, Harry held the cracked hand mirror his aunt had thrown at him a long time ago as he carefully applied concealer to his scar.

Harry had gotten the idea from a customer, who had been talking to her friends about hiding her blemishes. Harry had been almost stunned to tears when the ivory colored concealer actually managed to hide the lightning bolt scar that had been the source of many uncomfortable years of publicity.

Now, scar free, Harry looked like a regular teen. His skin pale and blemish free, his pink lips stretched into a bright smile that made his green eyes dance with carefree joy.

Taking it a step further, Harry grabbed his eyeliner pencil and carefully outlined his eyes with black before pulling his fringe back and clipping it in place at the top of his head. Now even Harry could admit he looked like a flat chested girl, and he was quite happy with his efforts. The Death Eaters wouldn't be expecting the Chosen One to dress like a girl, surely! Although he may be willing to put on makeup, he definitely drew the line at wearing dresses. He still lived at the Dursley's after all. He was trying to hide from the people trying to kill him, not push his uncle into doing it for them!

Harry glanced at the clock briefly before gathering up what he believed Hope would need for a day out. He packed extra diapers, a thick blanket, three extra bottles, two pairs of shirts and pants, a hat, and her hippo stuffy, along with a few more of her favorite toys. Rolling up her play mat, he put rubber bands around it to keep it from unravelling again and set it aside. He checked the time again and deemed it early enough to leave.

Hope was still napping in the nest of pillows and blankets on his bed when he walked over. Not wanting to wake her immediately Harry gently wrested his head right next to the infants.

Harry felt pride and happiness fill his chest as he gently placed a hand on her back. Her sleeping face turned up in a soft smile before returning to its sleeping state. Harry smiled too as he laid next to her, just taking in her soft snores and her peaceful expression.

Sighing in regret Harry sat up and, trying not to wake Hope, picked her up and maneuvered her legs into the Baby Carrier. She blinked up at him and made a fitful wine of complaint before dozing off again.

Harry carefully slung the carrier onto his back and clipped it in front before grabbing the diaper bag at the end of the bed. Making sure he had everything he needed, Harry walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shortness of this chapter and how long it took me to post it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I hope this is the last time I have to say this but I DO NOT OWN NOR PROFIT FROM THE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE NOR DO I PLAN TO! I am writing this for the sake of my own enjoyment and because I wanted to contribute to the fandom I love.
> 
> Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

"Thank you and have a great day!" Harry waved cheerfully at the young couple as they left, their spot quickly taken by yet another customer. 

Harry smiled brightly. "Hello and welcome to Rissing Sun Cafe! What can I get you?"

The man squinted at the board behind Harry, tapping a finger against the counter as he did so. He was dressed in a neat black suit with his grey tie tucked symmetrically from collar to button. His mahogony colored hair was slicked back and perfect with not a hair out of place. His face was rather handsome, in a sort of professional way. His face was quite long, with defined cheek bones and a pair of thin silver rimmed glasses sat upon a straight nose. His brows were a few shades darker than his hair and was arched rather Vulcan-like. His lips were thin and pursed a little as the man tried to decide what he wanted.

This man was quite handsome, Harry decided.

"I will have the raspberry cheesecake with the chocolate and caramel machiotto iced coffee, if you don't mind," the man said with a polite smile.

"Of course, mister! And is there anything else you wish to order?" The man shook his head. "Alright, then! Your order will be ready shortly," Harry said, his smile having never diminished as he left the counter and into the backroom.

Harry quickly got to work, taking measures to make this order perfect. He'd been at it for hours up at the front and even now he didn't tire from it. Perhaps it was the promise of pay or the satisfaction of doing something that provided an almost decent living for his daughter and himself. Either way, he didn't know nor did he care. He was happy and that's what mattered.

The chilled beverage at hand Harry grabbed a small plate from the shelf where he placed a helping of cheesecake with a drizzle of raspberry syrup and a couple raspberries on top and carried the the order outside where the customer was waiting.

"Here you are, mister," he said as he passed the food and drink to the man carefully. "One iced chocolate and caramel machiotto. And one raspberry cheesecake!" The dessert taken, Harry watched the man's thin mouth stretch into a brilliant smile that showed slightly crooked white teeth.

"Thank you, dearie. I hope you have a lovely day," the man said. Harry's eyes closed with the force of his smile, a pink blush gracing his cheeks.

"You too!" Harry beamed and the man nodded before taking his order to an empty place near the window. Harry was just about to turn to his next customer when a tap at his shoulder brought his attention to his employer, who smiled kindly.

"It's past twelve, child. You need to take a break for a while," she said, patting the wizard's shoulder.

"Is it really that late?!" Harry asked in shock, his head swiveling to the clock.

Sherri nodded. "It is." Sherri looked amused at her newest employee's shocked face. It wasn't everyday her employees would forget their breaks and continue to work as if it was their most favorite hobby. This kid had to be reminded almost daily! It was refreshing.

"I'm sorry," Harry chuckled nervously, mindlessly tucking a stray chunk of hair behind his ear. Sherri only shook her head.

"Nevermind that, hon. You go rest up now and leave this to me." Patting his back she shooed Harry away turned to his next customer.

Harry blinked rapidly for a moment before his smile once again returned and he dodged servers and cooks expertly as he made his way to the break room.

Harry was greeted by the sight of his daughter asleep in her swing as soft music played from the little speaker at the top. Her head wresting gently on the blanket (specifically put there for that purpose as she still couldn't control her head properly), her hippo stuffy clutched in one hand while the other wrested at her mouth.

He knew he was being a little too prideful, but Harry believed his child was the cutest being that he'd ever laid eyes on.

"If you'd like, I'll take a picture of her?" The peaceful moment was broken and Harry jumped.

"Woah there! Your gonna wake the baby, you nimrod." Marcy smacked his head before flopping onto the couch with a loud sigh that made the baby jerk.

Harry busied himself with rooting through his diaper bag, trying to reorganize it. "So how'd you manage to sneak in this time? Window or vent?" Harry asked lowely, not wanting to be over heard. Marcy had a nack for breaking into her mother's restaurant without her notice.

"What makes you think I was late?" asked Marcy, her voice high and unconvincing. Harry gave her a pointed look and she scoffed. "Well since you have SO much faith in me, I'll have you know I've been in the back this entire time watching my darling niece! I don't need an excuse to do that, do I?! I am perfectly capable of being a responsible adult that shows up to work on time and takes care of her brothers kid at the same time! I'm a fuckin' super-aunt, that's what i am!" She laughed maniacally, her eyes shifting around the room, looking for an escape.

Harry shook his head. "I know your capable of being responsible. I never said you weren't! But can I let you in on a little secret?" asked Harry, leaning in close to Marcy who eyed him shrewdly before leaning in as well.

"I can detect your lies as well as a goblin banker can detect an imposter," Harry whispered mysteriously.

"That's weird," Marcy whispered back.

"But no less true," said Harry, throwing his arms behind his head as he leaned back.

"You are the strangest boy I have ever met." 

"Also true."

Marcy cackled but stopped when Hope let out a low whine. Checking to make sure the girl was sound asleep, the teen's chuckled behind their hands.

"Well," Harry started, after he got over his amusement. "Since you've been here the entire time, I hope you'll be able to tell me what happened to all the formula?" He'd bought it just yesterday and it was nowhere to be found. Marcy winced.

"Yeah, about that," She chuckled nervously, scratching her chin. "I may have accidentally dropped it and kinda dumped most of it on the floor? And I thought it would be bad for the baby if I scooped it back into the thing, so I kinda threw it out before anyone could notice. BUT," she continued quickly as Harry let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his eyes beneath his coke bottle glasses. "I'll be willing to pay you whatever much to replace it, m'kay?"

Harry paused in his eye rubbing to glance up at his friend. He didn't want her money. He didn't have a problem replacing one canister of formula- though, hypothetically, it would cost more than a week's work of food for him if Mrs. Weasley stopped ever stopped sending him food every week-. He always split his food money in half for such occasions like this anyways, so it wouldn't matter.

With another (softer) sigh, harry smiled kindly. "No, it's fine. I have another at home so don't worry about it," he lied, waving his hand nonchalantly. Marcy stubbornly shook her head.

"If you won't take the money I'll just go buy a can myself and give it to you later, so-" Rooting through her wallet she slammed a few notes onto the cushion beside him and sat back with her arms crossed against her chest defiantly. Glanced between her and the money beside him Harry, resigned, picked up the money and counted silently.

"This is too much."

"I don't care," said Marcy hotly.

The two teens stared each other down, green and blue flashing as each willed the other to look away first.

The silence was broken by a soft yawn and a sleepy wine, drawing the attention of all in the room.

"Hey there, sleepy-head," Harry cooed as he gently scooped her out of the swing. Hope blinked up at him sleepily, her face scrunched slightly. Placing her on his chest as he laid down, Harry kissed her little brow. "Did you have a good sleep? Hm?"

Marcy watched the small family endearingly.

"I put her down only an hour ago, so she's been sleeping for a while," said Marcy, leaning forward to smooth dow the black fuzz of Hope's hair. Harry hummed as Hope squirmed, rubbing her face (and her nose) into his chest as Harry patted her bum gently.

"Thank you, by the way," Harry said quietly, not looking anywhere but at his daughter. He wasn't used to people helping him financially- especially with his daughter, who he'd only had for a couple of months and he'd been set on hiding from the start.

"It's nothing, really. Just replacing what I wasted," Marcy replied, still stroking Hope's head.

Hope, now much more awake, stared at her daddy's face; her eyes dancing over his features as a small hand reached out and scratched at his chin.

Harry grinned and kissed her hand, making Hope smile sweetly and laugh. Beside him, Marcy laughed too.

"So what was that about taking her picture?" asked Harry, still kissing Hope's hand and making her giggle.

"Ah! That's right!" Smacking herself slightly Marcy darted over to the other side of the room were she began to loudly rustle through her things, muttering to herself all the while. Curious, Harry sat up, baby safely pinned to his chest as he watched his friend throw aside item after item from her bag.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, holding a camera over her head as she clambered to her feet, nearly tripping in her excitement as she ran back to her place on the opposite couch.

Grinning from ear to ear, Marcy held up her finding with pride.

"Ya know what this is?" She asked slyly. Harry took in the flawless silver of the camera and its retractable lense with polite interest.

"An expensive camera?" Harry guessed.

"Au contrare, my technologically impaired friend! This is not JUST an expensive camera!" Taking off the lense cap, she pressed a button on the top that made the lense contract and retract. Harry would admit that he was slightly impressed by the small contraption, having never seen anything like it. The only camera's he's ever experienced were the cheap disposable kind that his aunt would use.

Marcy turned the camera around and shoved it in his direction, allowing him to see the fancy little screen that showed a blurry bit of her shoes before she took it away again.

"This," she began. "Is an entire six months worth of allowance and waitressing tips! The crowning jewel of my collection!" She cackled, not bothering to hide her enjoyment now that she didn't have to.

Marcy kind of reminded him of Collin Creevy; energetic and eager to snap a picture of whatever delighted her. He'd been lucky to avoid posing for her (as she has asked on a day to day basis), but allowed her to snap a few while he wasn't looking- usually when he was working and unaware. She'd shown him a few and Harry rather liked how the natural settings changed the feel of each picture.

"Do you wanna do it now? Or just wait till the end of the day," asked Marcy. Harry noticed how she fidgeted in her seat and how her eyes gleamed eagerly. Harry chuckled.

"I think we can do it now," Harry decided.

Harry patted Hope's back as she jerked when Marcy shot out of her seat, fists in the air as she bounced on the soles of her feet excitedly.

"YES! Thank you! THANK YOU! I've been waiting for this forever, YES! Okay, I won't disappoint you! These are gonna be the most kick-ass photos you will ever see. I promise!" She did a little jig before she snatched his child from his chest and began to blow raspberries into her cheeks.

Harry resigned himself to his fate as he too was grabbed and forced to endure her overzealous affections.

A little while later, a tired and weary looking Harry returned to the front counter.

 

6:43.

Another seventeen minutes and I'll be headed home for the night, thought Harry, lazily sweeping the floor beneath one of the booths. He stifled a yawn as he swept the mess into the dustpan before tossing the it into the bin.

He did not take into account just how tired he'd be when Marcy was through with him. She had him pose with Hope for his entire break- two hours of being prodded and pushed, listening to Marcy's constant jabber, trying to keep Hope happy and still so they could finish sooner- before he was finally allowed to escape.

As Harry worked, he didn't notice the pair of eyes watching him from across the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi everybody! I'd like to thank everyone for sticking with this story so far. I know it's horribly riddled with grammatical errors and spelling mistakes, not to mention the plot holes the size of the Grand Canyon lol. I hope that you guys continue to enjoy reading this and I'd love to hear what you guys think!


	8. Chapter 8

The end of his shift came and went and by the time he was able to leave it was well past nine. Harry could feel his feet ache as he marched briskly along the lamp lit sidewalk, expertly managing not to jostle his precious sleeping cargo. It had begun raining shortly before he decided it was time to go but Harry wasn't deterred. He had declined Marcy's offer of an umbrella (knowing very well that she didn't have one to begin with) Harry made due with his ratty too-large jacket; which he wore out the door under the careful watch of his friend before he had shrugged it off and draped over the Tactical Carrier.

Drenched to the bone with his thin shirt clinging to his scrawny frame and his too-large pants rubbing against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs uncomfortably Harry was thankful that the night was so warm. Harry hardly felt a chill as he hummed a nursery rhyme under his breath, happy and exhausted and MORE than read to turn in for the night.

"Little bunny foo foo, Hoppin' through the forest, Scooping up the field mice and BOPPIN' them on the head!" Harry sang aloud softly as he kicked a stray rock into a storm drain.

In a childish voice, Harry continued. "Down came the good fairy, and she said," Harry made his voice rise, doing his best womanly voice as he sang. "Little bunny foo foo, I don't want to see you, Scooping up the field mice and BOPPIN' them on the head!"

Harry hummed to himself all the way through the traffic light and all the way down the street. In this time Harry encountered very little people on his journey home: besides a drunken leer or two, a few late night shopper's and couple's, Harry was left alone to his thoughts. It seemed only yesterday since his life did a 180° turn; his colorless world filled with pain and misery over Sirius's death grew brighter with every day that has passed since his little star came into his life. His little peanut, sickly looking and waterlogged as she was, brought him out of the fog and back into the clear reality that no matter how painful it was, Sirius would've wanted him to move past his grief and to go on living his life. In a way, her presence in his life has been a Godsend. She'd fixed him in that moment he'd saved her from the river. Half drowned and left for dead, she'd mended his broken spirit with the very first cry.

Harry noticed the rain beginning to slow as he floated down the asphalt bike lane over a large bridge. The consistent gurgling of the water made him stop to peer over the edge at the black waters beneath.

With a sad smile Harry closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to any God who would listen, thanking them for the gift they'd given him and for the renewed strength and determination to keep on going. If not for his own sake, or that of the Wizarding world, Harry is bound and determined to live for his only child; to fight for a better future for her and others like her to live in safety and peace for as long as they live. He would fight with everything he has in him to beat Voldemort and keep on living. He's determined to watch his daughter grow up into a beautiful young woman, to be there when she got married and to play with his future grandchildren.

Perhaps even HE would settle down one day and marry. He had never really considered marriage before but the thought didn't seem so far fetched. He'd always believed that he'd never have made it to his 20's, what with a crazed dark wizard hypocrite who fancied himself a Lord after him at every turn, or his own uncle who had on more than one occasion tried to hold his head under water; be it the sink or bath tub.

Harry felt the moment Hope squirmed and chuckled to himself sadly, swaying gently on his feet at the high pitched whine. "Hush now, star. I won't let anything happen to you. Daddy's here," soothed Harry, humming the nursery rhyme again as he swayed to the invisible beat. Soon the squirming ceased and Hope fell silent once more.

Harry continued to hum as he continued on his way, passing an empty park encased in trees as he did so and never looked back.

When Harry finally reached Privet Drive Harry carefully slid that month's rent through the mail slot of Number Four before hurrying to his own home above the garage. Climbing the stairs carefully Harry swung open his door with a loud sigh of relief. Dripping wet, his aching feet carried him over to the bed where he unsnapped the front latching and gently set his precious burden up on the bed, tossing the sopping wet jacket into the corner of the room. That done Harry sluggishly pulled his heavy shirt over his head and tossed it with his jacket. Now naked from the waist up Harry sat in his busted three legged chair to take care of his shoes and socks, leaving him in only his pants.

Harry rested for a little while, his arms and feet aching something terrible. Harry swiped at his cheeks with his shoulder before rain drops could roll across his face and drip onto his skinny chest. Briefly considering shutting his eyes for the moment, Harry stood up with a soft whimper and hobbled over to his bed, loosening his belt and letting his trousers fall to the floor on his way.

Climbing into bed was a real struggle for the young wizard, but he managed, all the while making sure his daughter didn't wake up as he slipped her from the Carrier and tucked her into her little nest of blankets between him and the wall. With no more energy left Harry dropped the Carrier next to his bed and promptly passed out.

.

.

.

Harry shot from his bed as a shrill scream pierce his ears.

"I'm awake! What? Wha's happin'n." Harry, half awake and brandishing his wand as he leaned down to pick up his wide awake child and press her to his chest as he attempted to calm her down as he did a quick search for any possible threats.

When none were apparent Harry cooed and rocked back and forth, stowing his wand under his pillow once again. Hope's cries were even louder still and Harry only cooed and patted her soothingly as he bustled about making her a fresh bottle and changing her into a fresh nappy.

Eyes half lidded Harry settled back into bed, cradling his baby within one arm while the other held her bottle up as she drank hungrily. He could feel himself begin to drift before a sharp cry startled him back into semi awareness.

This went on for ten more minutes before he tiredly looked down, only to notice that she was gnawing on the rubber nipple quite aggressively.

"Hey, hey. None of that," said Harry softly. He moved the bottle over the edge of the bed, cringing as she wailed in his ear. Grabbing her pacifier he set it at her lips before she quickly took it into her mouth. Harry sighed at the blissful sound of silence.

"You just wanted your chewy, huh?" asked Harry rhetorically. He brushed downy black hair from her face. "Are you teething, princess? Hm? Do I need to get some medicine- do they sell medicine for this? I don't know," Harry scrubbed at his face. The effort to think was startlingly hard at the moment.

After a minute Harry came to the decision that, yes, they do make teething medication.

"Because how can they not, am I right? Make it less uncomfortable for you and," Harry paused to yawn. "much easier for me." Harry leaned over once again and grabbed her hippo, placing it under her chin before hunkering down into a more comfortable position. He then brought his baby closer to his chest, giving her a sweet kiss to her brow as he snuggled under his covers once again.

Smiling tiredly, Harry muttered a soft 'goodnight' before drifting off to sleep.

.

.

.

When Harry woke up next, it was to the rhythmic tapping at his window at ten to four in the morning.

'Why can't you just let me sleep?' Harry whined to himself. Exhausted, he climbed out from under his covers and padded over to window where he could just barely make out the shape of a bird through the rain covered window. Muttering a curse under his breath Harry had barely cracked it before he was nearly clipped in the face by an over excited Pig.

Harry cringed as the string of shrill screeching from the overly excited owl woke the baby, who began her own string of loud wailing.

Pig, who had taken it upon himself to do as many laps about his room as quickly as possible, froze at the new sound. Hooting curiously, he flew cautiously over to the humans nest and perched himself on the back board and gazed wondrously at the squirming thing under the cloth. Hooting loudly to get the human's attention, he trilled confusedly down at the creature invading the humans nest. Having been rubbing his temples and wondering if Ron would be terribly upset if he could had the bird stuffed for decoration purposes, Harry slid puffy red eyes over at the Scops owl.

"That's my baby." Harry crossed the room and scooped his still crying daughter to his chest. "Whom, until recently, was sound asleep," said Harry accusingly. The bird didn't seem to hear and only looked in awe at the tiniest human being he'd ever seen.

Harry cooed and rocked on his feet till she finally calmed. Poor Harry's feet ached something awful and his eyes burned with exhaustion but Harry paid his body no mind. When he felt that she was calm enough, Harry turned his glare onto the silent owl.

"Did you have something to deliver? Or did you come here for the sole purpose of making a ruckus and disturbing people's sleep?" asked Harry impatiently.

The owl ruffled his feathers in indignation, hooting angrily before presenting its foot. Grumbling to himself as Hope cooed in his ear, Harry managed to untie the two envelopes from the bird one handed. He dropped them but scooped up the one that said it was from Hermione and felt his mood brighten partially.

Fighting back a yawn Harry thanked the small bird and gave him one of Hedwig's owl treats. Pig hooted proudly and did another couple of laps around his room before settling himself into Hedwig's cage and falling straight to sleep.

Harry glared jealously at the slumbering bird for a moment before he turned back to the letters at hand. Harry placed Hope on her fuzzy mat and dropped down beside her as he tore the envelope open eagerly.

Hermione's letter consisted of much disappointment that Harry wouldn't be staying at the Burrow that summer and of her conflicted feelings of him working in the muggle world. She knew of his disguise, and had offered to research an effective way to correct his eye sight because, as Hermione says, his glasses were a dead give away. So far, she's found spells that could let you see in the dark, have eagle eye vision, see through clothes (that one she hadn't disclosed much information about). One was so old and allowed the user to read any known language of the ancient world! All of these last a few hours at a time, however, and wasn't at all what she had in mind.

She expressed her sorrow about not getting the Mark's she'd wanted in her O.W.L results. Harry was deeply tempted to write her and say that ten Outstanding's and one Exceeds Expectation's was more than perfect, if he didn't know that she'd chew his ear off about that 'not being the point'.

Ron's letter mainly consisted of his annoyance that Harry would rather work over the summer than hang out with him. He'd even accused him of gallivanting with girls behind his back. That one made Harry snort derisively.

First of all he'd need to know a muggle girl before he would go off 'gallivanting' with one.

Harry also noticed a lot of Fleur-Worship as he read; his friend detailing almost poetically about how perfect Fleur was and that his mother, sister and Hermione 'didn't get it'. Harry felt a little sorry for Ron as he came to the conclusion that one of the aforementioned females must've caught on to what he was writing because the rest of the parchment had been covered in ink splatters so that he could barely make out the rest of his letter and the imprint of what looked like a nose pressed into the bottom of the parchment next to Ron's signature.

Harry chuckled to himself as he layed back, wresting his head on his arms. It's not like he didn't want to go to the Burrow. He just couldn't find the right way to tell them that he had taken on a really big responsibility that he was afraid they'd feel he wasn't up for. He was pretty sure that Dumbledore wouldn't approve of him bringing a possible muggle baby into a war where muggles and muggleborn's alike were being killed off left, right and center.

And his friends.

Harry scrubbed at his eyes. They'd be furious with him if they knew he'd been keeping her a secret from them. Understandably so. He'd be furious too if one of his friend's had his such a big secret from him. But he was scared.

After a while Harry began to feel himself drop off again and decided to get up when-

"Hope! Nonononono sweetie, that's not for eating!" Harry pried chubby hands open and gently removed the parchment from his daughter's mouth l, leaving her hands and mouth completely black with ink. Her little lips puckered as her eyes welled up with tears.

"Oh Merlin's beard," whispered Harry as a fresh wave of deafening wails echoed throughout the loft.

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"Jesus, Harry! What did you do all night long that has you this exhausted?" The voice of Marcy Lou Beeres barely registered in his sleepy mind as Harry handed a happily gurgling Hope to an eager Liam.

"Hope's teething," is all he says as he makes his way to the front counter.

Marcy, not really understanding his pain but chalked it up to being a 'parent thing', just shrugged and continued flipping pancakes: ignoring her father's consistent baby babble as much as she possibly could while fighting down the urge to do the same.

Harry was having a tougher time keeping his eyes open but managed to get through most of the morning relatively cheerful before everything came to a sudden halt.

"Hello and welcome to the Rising Sun Cafe! What can I do for you?" asked Harry in fake cheer, succeeding for the hundredth time that morning to ignore the urge to yawn.

"Good morning. I would like a chocolate muffin and English tea if you don't mind," the customer said. Harry nodded along, concentrating on writing down the order.

"And would that be all, sir?" asked Harry.

The customer shook his head. "No, thank you. This month's moon has done a number on my stomach so I'm afraid I won't be needing much."

Harry nodded absently. "Then I'll have your order ready in no time then! Let me just-"

Harry froze.

Suddenly more awake, Harry looked -really looked- at his customer.

Green eyes ringed in yellow stared back at him through a tired, scarred face. Dressed in drab clothes just slightly out of date and frayed in places, stood Remus Lupin, looking as tired as Harry felt and smiling just as kindly as ever.

Oh shit.

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((I think I'm getting the hang of writing on this site lol.))

Hi everyone! Thank you for reading and I hope to hear what you guys think in the comments!

Song is called 'Little Bunny Foo Foo' and happens to be my favorite nursery rhyme. You can check it out on YouTube if you'd like. Also, I'm hoping that from this point on, the story will become slightly less angsty. That's something to look forward to, right? 😜

You guys are really awesome and I hope to hear from you guys later!

P.s. I am really conflicted on who Harry will end up with. Any suggestions?😫❤


	9. Chapter 9

Harry could feel his limbs shaking as he clutched at his iced tea desperately, glancing rapidly between the man currently nibbling at his chocolate muffin to the table that divided them. The cafe was packed (as it usually was this close to noon) and was filled with the energetic buzz of conversation. Harry had led the older man- getting the reluctant permission from his boss who'd eyed Remus suspiciously- to a booth in the corner where, upon sitting down, Remus set up privacy wards around them so that they may not be overheard; only Harry thought it was a waste, seeing as neither had tried to talk to the other since.

Harry didn't know how to feel about his current situation. On the one hand, Harry was surprised and very happy to see his ex professor. He had been worried that the Ministry fiasco all those months ago had irreparably damaged their relationship; he'd had been so afraid that he'd not only lost his godfather that day, but his uncle as well. Harry couldn't even count the number of times he'd woken in a cold sweat, the echos of the remaining Marauder's words of anger and heart wrenching rejection still swirling around in his head. On the other hand, he remembered the lack of letters from him the entire brake, his sickly form and the way the man hadn't once looked him in the eye since greeting him. Harry thinks bitterly that he'd much prefer having the benefit of the doubt.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, as both werewolf and teen mulled over what they wanted to say to each other.

Finally, setting down his fork, Remus exhaled awkwardly before speaking.

"So.... I've noticed that you've taken a rather interesting approach disguising yourself when you go out- quite surprising, might I add! I almost didn't recognize you," Remus said in amazement. "I had been warned that you were taking odd precautionary measures but I had no idea you would do something like THIS!"

Harry had the decency to blush.

"Well, I've never been very manly looking in the first place, have I? This was the only thing I could think of!" He retorted testily. So he disguised himself as a girl! It's not like he can grow an extra two feet and muscle mass over night to make up for his lack of masculinity! 

"Easy now," said Remus, his hands up in submission. "I wasn't criticizing. I'm actually quite impressed. You even fooled me with your disguise! Why, if I hadn't have recognized your scent I'm sure I'd believe I was talking to a complete stranger." At Harry's disbelieving look Remus continued. "I'm serious! Even the Order became slightly confused at your choice of disguise- some were concerned you had a girlfriend stowed away somewhere!"he chuckled, sipping at his cooled tea.

"So that's where Ron got it," said Harry quietly. Sipping from his own cup as he lost himself in thought. He'd just assumed that Ron had been angry with him and had tried coming up with a reason his best friend wouldn't join him for the holiday. Actually, now that he thought about it, he did have a girl living with him. She may not be what they thought but she was still living with him. So they weren't TECHNICALLY wrong about that.

Remus's hum of amusement brought him back to reality.

"Although, I have to say, your glasses don't fit your image at all. They're very 'Harry Potter'-ish, don't you think?" asked Remus, resting his chin on his fist as he took in his coke bottle glasses.

"Hermione's mentioned it. Said she's been doing research in magical eye correction to fix them," Harry responded softly.

"I've heard that muggles are using alternative glasses. 'Contacts'? I believe is what they're called?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I just cannot afford them at this point in time. I have more important things to worry about besides that. And it's not like these are terribly out of fashion! I've seen girls in costume wear the same and they look good all the same," Harry shrugged.

If only you knew.

Remus hummed understandingly, lacing his fingers together over the table before letting his gaze wander elsewhere.

Silence fell between the two once again. To Harry, it was an uncomfortable one. Weren't they going to discuss what happened? Remus had barely looked at him the whole time. Is he mad at him? Did he he blame him? After a moment, Harry took a deep breath. Clearing his throat, bringing the other's attention back to him. Having mentally prepared himself over the months for this conversation, Harry straightened in his seat and did his best to look Remus in the eye.

"I am so sorry for what happened. Back then," Harry choked out. He couldn't stop the waver in his voice, nor the silent tears that threatened to fall, no matter how hard he tried to will them away. Ignoring his quaking form, he pushed every ounce of remorse into his words. "I didn't think. If I hadn't have been so stupid- if I had just listened to reason NONE of this would've happened! I-" He cut himself off as his breath hitched, fighting to contain a sob as Harry relized that, once again, yes, none of this would have happened if he had just stayed put. Sirius would still be alive if it weren't for him.

Before he relized, the tears streamed down his cheeks as his sobs wracked his small form. "I am so sorry!" Harry cried, covering his mouth to stifle it as much as possible. The words continued to flow, despite his sobbing, and soon Harry felt his head resting against the cold table top; tea forgotten as he cried, the silent werewolf clenching and unclenching his fists escaped his notice.

"I'm sorry, Remus! I'm sorry for everything! I wish I could take it back- take it all back! I wish none of this ever happened! If it weren't for me they'd all still be here!" The more he cried the less intelligible he became, even to him. So he just cried.

Harry startles when two hands suddenly grab his shoulders and pull him around the table (hitting his hip against it in the process) and pulled into a tight embrace, arms encircling him and gripping tight. Harry feels the thinning chest rise and fall unevenly against his hands as the man's hot breath puffed into his hair shakily. He could feel wetness that wasn't his own begin to fall against his shoulder as he was man handled into a more comfortable position in Remus's lap. 

"Don't you ever say that to me again! EVER!" And Harry was squeezed even more as the man's face buried itself into his neck. Remus' voice is wobbly as he continues. "I have never once blamed you for what happened. Not once! It wasn't your fault, Harry, understand?! No one blames you! Sirius's death was not your fault!" Remus nuzzled his hair again, his tears disappearing into soft black locks. 

Still stunned, he could only sit and endure; having expected to be treated coldly, maybe violently in some of his most feared imaginings. He expected to be shunned; being ignored would hurt, but at least he wouldn't have to hear the truth. Remus was whispering "It's not your fault!" over and over in his ear, gripping him like a life line and all Harry could do was slip his arms around the olders neck and bury his wet face into his chest as they shared in each others pain and cried together.

Some time later, Harry pried himself away from the man's grip to wipe his tears away with his shoulder while straightening his glasses. Remus allowed him to compose himself as he, too, swiped at his damp cheeks. Both regarded the other, the occasional snival breaking the silence between them.  
Harry noticed that, although Remus let him distance himself, he was still sat upon the man's knees, his thin-but-still-strong arms wrapped tightly around Harry's waist.

Emotionally, Harry felt better than he'd had since the Ministry incident. He felt lighter- like the gloom that had been steadily growing thicker and heavier around him suddenly begun to clear away. He felt his fears wash away as relief took its place. Physically, Harry thought he was going to collapse at any time. Coupled with his measly four to five hours sleep, his aching body and spending however long crying, Harry felt he was just about ready to crawl his way to the break room and sleep the entire day away.

"This wasn't part of the reason I came today, but it's nice all the same," Remus chuckled wetly. Harry smiled weakly as he rubbed his nose. Even though Remus assured him that he wasn't to blame, Harry still felt responsible. At least Remus didn't hate him.

"Harry?"

Harry focused on the man's face again. Remus sighed, lightly rubbing the teen's back. "It was only a matter of time, cub. For you: he would've done anything keep you safe. And he did. He gave his life to protect you just as your parents did. Because you are so so so SO loved, Harry! Not one of your parents or Sirius would have preferred it any other way, and frankly neither would I. So don't you DARE tell me that it was your fault! It wasn't your fault, cub." Remus slides his hands over his shoulders, grasping him firmly before drawing him into another- gentler- hug. Harry was happy to comply.

Whispering words of comfort the two wizards remained in each others embrace till, finally, they began to calm down. Remus loosened his hold on Harry as Harry slid off the man's lap and onto the booth; tucking his legs under him as he rubbed his puffy red eyes. Remus had turned his head away so that he may scrub away his tears without Harry seeing as the two became silent. With an arm still wrapped around his shoulders Harry snuggled more comfortably into the man's side.

Remus cleared his throat. "The reason for my visit was because Mrs. Weasley wanted to know if you'd be available to join them in a trip to Diagon Ally next month."

Harry sat straighter in his seat.

"Of course!" Was Harry's automatic reply. "I'd be more than happy to tag along if they'll have me!" said Harry eagerly. And he was. He could feel his excitement at the prospect of visiting the wizarding world vibrate under his skin; effectively chasing away his fatigue and lingering sadness as he smiled widely. He could think of a million things he'd like to do in Diagon Alley....

"Then it's settled then," said Remus. "I will tell Mrs. Weasley that you have agreed to come. I think that she, Mr. Ronald or Miss Granger will inform you of the specifics later. In the meantime," With a flick of his wrist the silencing spell and Notice-Me-Not fell and the loud buzz of the cafe returned. "I'll be heading back to the Burrow. Of course, I will be telling Mrs. Weasley that you are doing very well for yourself and that her care packages seemed to have put a fair amount of meat on your bones at last." He chortled, ruffling the younger's hair. Harry cringed at the touch before grinning shyly up at the werewolf. 

He was suddenly aware of a prickling sensation on his neck. Turning around, he noticed the glaring stare of his Manager behind the cashier, her face twisted in disapproval. Startled, Harry quickly glanced at the overhead clock and winced at how late it was. He and Remus had been talking for nearly THREE HOURS while his shift was being covered by his BOSS while he was over here socializing instead of doing his job!

Harry shot to his feet.

"Well! It's been great catching up, but unfortunately I need to get back to work!" Harry grabbed the arm of a startled Remus and tugged him to his feet. "Thank you for checking in on me, Professor. I do appreciate what you and the rest of the Order are going through to keep me safe as I'm sure I'm not making your jobs any easier by exposing myself like this so I hope no one is too angry with me! Please be safe on your way back and don't worry about me!"

Harry then gave the man a quick hug with promises of writing to him later before disappearing into the crowd of muggles. Still stunned, Remus could barely make out the the top of the boy's head over the crowd. Glancing at the clock Remus grimaced, realizing how late it was. He hoped Harry wasn't in too much trouble.

Straightening his clothes, Remus left a few coins on the table and grabbed his tea before leaving the cafe, his thoughts occupied.

Was it just him, or did Harry smell a bit off?

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I'm not terribly happy with this chapter. I know I said that all this angst was behind us, but I truly believed that Harry deserved a little closure after what happened. I would also like to point out that I wanted to make this a long story; like, maybe 50+ chapters? But I don't want to just drag it out and make it boring for you guys. So if it starts becoming boring you need to tell me, k?
> 
> Tnx
> 
> Not much Hope in this, and Remus didn't discover her (but he might make a connection later on haha)
> 
> ::SPOILERS:: I do plan on revealing Hope to one or more characters next chapter! So if you're still with me by then that would be awesome =)
> 
> Big shout out to everyone who commented last chapter! You guys are absolutely amazing!
> 
> Hope to hear from you guys later!


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